


I'm Talkin' to Myself at Night (Because I Can't Forget)

by TT_Angst_Queen



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, HYDRA Trash Party, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, The Merchant of Death is his own Person, The Winter Soldier is his own person, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture, Undercover, Undercover HYDRA Agent Tony Stark, eventual OT3, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-20 17:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TT_Angst_Queen/pseuds/TT_Angst_Queen
Summary: When Tony agreed to go undercover in HYDRA when it was discovered they had had a massive rat in SHEILD's cellar, Tony expected a lot of Heil'ing with both hands like an idiot and a fair share of agreeing with people he would rather shoot with a repulsor to the face.He was not prepared for the brainwashed Murder-Kitten with the sometimes-sad-sometimes-empty eyes that put all his protective instincts on levels he had only felt with Steve.He definitely was NOT prepared to discover his Murder-Kitten was Bucky-Goddamn-Barnes.Steve was gonna shit KITTENS.





	1. You want me to WHAT?!?

**Author's Note:**

> Are you 18+ and Want to join in a group dedicated to Bucky Appreciation? Join my Server on Discord, here: 
> 
> https://discord.gg/h2zTtzT
> 
> Hope to see you soon!

 

 

* * *

 

 

Tony Stark didn’t do stuff like this. He really didn’t. He was an inventor, an engineer, a futurist. He likes to hole up in his lab and go without sleep for days on end surviving on nothing but coffee and his sheer stubbornness until Steve bodily dragged him out delirious and almost on the verge of passing out. The last time that happened, Steve gave him such a  _ look _ that Tony had meekly taken the next week and a half to spend with his boyfriend and not his lab. 

 

It was, of course, that week and a half that life decided to be its usual bitch and say fuck that to him. Because Tony just had that kind of luck, apparently. 

 

“You want me to  _ what _ ?” ok, so he must have heard wrong. This had to be some hallucination that his sleep-deprived mind had come up with because Fury did not just say-

 

“Infiltrate HYDRA, Stark.”  Fury eyed him with that judgy eye of his, and Tony puffed up internally. Outwardly, he just gaped. 

 

“I dunno if you got the memo, Nicky-poo, but HYDRA died when Steve crashed into the ice and became a patriotic popsicle,” Tony fidgeted with the tumbler of not-vodka in his hand and tried not to think of the implications. 

 

“SHIELD has been compromised, Stark, since the beginning.” 

 

Oh, Howard would be rolling in his grave to know that his baby was infested with those tentacle fuckers since the beginning. Tony couldn’t help but shiver when he realized that Steve had been working for SHIELD  and going on missions for them ever since he was defrosted two years ago. Jesus Christ, the man had been basically working for the very organization he gave his life to destroy. 

 

Steve couldn’t know.

 

“You’re not telling Steve,” Tony told Fury, his voice brooking absolutely no arguments.  

 

He couldn’t know, not right now. Tony would not tell the blond for the very fact that he would go in guns a’ blazin’ and get himself killed like the reckless little shit he was, and he said that with so much love it was ridiculous.  

 

“You sure about that, Stark?” Fury raised an eyebrow, and Tony scowled. 

 

“He won’t thank you for it,” the man pointed out, “he might even hate you for it.” 

 

“If he does,” Tony looked into Fury’s eye, for once, dead serious. “Then that’s on me.”

 

“You would risk your relationship over this.” 

 

Tony nodded. Hell yeah, he would.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because at least he’ll be alive to hate me.”

 

Fury smirked but nodded in acknowledgment. 

 

“You’ll be going in as yourself, Stark. Are you sure you can deal with these crazy fuckers?”

 

“A.) yes, I can, and B.) HYDRA will totally not believe I want to join their little Nazi tea-party without a big reason, eye-patch.” 

 

Seriously, he was Ironman and an Avenger! Why the hell would HYDRA believe that he would want to join them since they stood for everything Tony and the team fought for? 

 

“We have you covered, Stark. It’s all in the debrief packet. We set up a false trail that goes back years,” Fury smirked, 

 

“all the way back to your college days. Antonio Edwardo Stark found out about HYDRA when he went snooping into SHIELD on a visit with his father. Being raised with Howard's constant praise of Captain America gave Antonio a hatred for Steve Rogers that burned even years later, and when Rogers was defrosted, he got close to him in order to take the Avengers down from the inside. 

 

“But unfortunately they don’t trust you with enough information to be a useful spy, so you sent HYDRA a request for a tech position.”

 

Tony hummed, actually impressed by the very realistic version on what-could-have-been. It was actually kind of terrifying to see what could have happened if Tony had gone the other way. And to be honest with himself, he couldn’t help but think it could have happened to him anyways if it weren’t for Afghanistan. 

 

“Wow, Nick,” couldn't let Nicks' head get big, could he? “SHIELD actually made a decent plan. Color me surprised.”

 

“So you’ll do it?” Nick asked, looking tired of being in the inventor's presence, and tony inwardly cheered. 

 

Of course, he would do it. How could he not? Not only was the world at stake, but Steve had been going on missions for these people for two years! Who knows how many people HYDRA had sent Steve after, unknowing using the man as a murder weapon to point and shoot with, all the while telling the blond that it was for the good of humanity, for the protection of the people. 

 

“Yeah, I’ll do it.”

 

“Good,” Fury’s lip twitched, and Tony knew he was suppressing a relieved grin. 

 

“You’re mission spec’s are in the packet, paper so it cant be traced. HYDRA should be contacting you sometime tomorrow, so be ready,” Fury was halfway to the elevator before he stopped, and looked over his shoulder. “And Stark?”

 

“Yes, Nikki?” 

 

“You should tell him, you might not get a chance to later.”

 

Well. if he didn’t think he was risking his very life before…

 

“I’ll think about it.” 

 

“You do that.”

 

He probably wouldn’t.

 

 

* * *

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GASP!!!! two chapter in one day?!? and one of them over 1k? blame MassiveSpaceWren. (Actually don't, I dared wren to dare me to write another today, they just gave me a push. Off a cliff. <3 you wren)

 

* * *

 

 

 

Fury had left with his leather duster swishing as dramatically, as usual, leaving Tony to the packet on the table made with good old-fashioned  _ paper _ . 

 

Looking at the paper with distaste at its primitiveness, Tony poked it with one finger, not really expecting it to explode, but he really wouldn’t be surprised if it did.  _ Goddamn spies _ .  

 

The paper just sat there after he poked it, and if the paper could look unimpressed it would.

 

“Sir, you are aware that paper is no longer living, correct?”

 

Glaring at the ceiling, Tony pouted. 

 

“JARVIS, your sass is not appreciated, I will donate you to a community college. In fact, I will donate you to a community college in  _ Jersey _ .”  Tony smirked smugly. 

 

“Oh the horror, sir.” JARVIS returned dryly. 

 

“Such  _ sass _ , J.”

 

“I have no idea what you mean, sir.” 

 

Tony snickered. “Of course you don’t.”

 

Tony sighed, returning his attention to the packet that contained his mission. 

 

_ Fuck _ . 

 

What had he been thinking?! He was  _ Tony Stark: Inventor and Engineer _ , not  _ Tony Stark: Super Spy _ ! How the hell was he going to pull this off? He was constantly reminded by himself and other of his lack of impulse control- and he was pretty sure he was going to end up having plenty of impulsive thoughts about punching and/or shooting HYDRA goons in the face. How the hell was he going to-

 

No. 

 

He could do this. 

 

He HAD to do this. 

 

For the world. 

 

_ For Steve. _

 

Because  _ nobody _ hurt His Steve. 

 

HYDRA had definitely hurt him, or they will when, if, he finds out. 

 

He still was on the fence about telling Steve about this. 

 

Opening the packet, he saw his specs, background information, fake personal email, and a bag with a burner phone and a brand new laptop that was undoubtedly bugged by Nick Fury himself, because the man had  _ Trust Issues _ .

 

Granted, given the situation, Tony could understand having  _ Trust Issues _ . 

 

_ He _ had  _ Trust Issues.  _

 

Tony almost choked when he came across the last four digits of his burner phone number: 1991. 

 

He swore to Thor that better be a fuckin coincidence or he would so smack the shit outta Fury. 

 

Tony was an asshole but even he wasn’t  _ that _ much of a douche-canoe. 

 

Trying to put it out of his mind, the Inventor read through the rest of the packet, before walking to the secret safe underneath the countertop under the coffee machine, and placed the packet, sans-phone, and laptop, and closed it. Bracing his hand on the counter, he took a deep breath in, before releasing it and raising one hand to rub around the scarred skin surrounding his Arc Reactor.

 

“J, remind me next time someone asks me to infiltrate another organization full of Nazi’s,  _ not to do it _ .”  

 

“Of course sir, I will add it next to  _ Never eat or drink while watching ‘Men in Tights so I don’t choke’  _  and  _ always announce myself before entering Thor’s floor because he like’s to walk around naked. _ ”

 

“Such sass.”

 

“I am as you programmed me, Sir.”

 

“Damn straight.”

 

“I believe not sir, you are, after all, dating Captain Rogers.”

 

“Touche, Jarv.”

 

“Very good, sir.”

 

* * *

 

 

Tony had just hidden his bag full of everything he would need while working at HYDRA (and fuck, but that was something he had never thought he would say, and hoped he never would again after all this shit was dealt with) when he heard the elevator ding and Steve call his name.

 

“Tony?” 

 

Entering the living room, Tony looked at a tired Steve, still in his uniform, sweaty and disheveled, looking all kinds of tired. 

 

Usually, the sight of his boyfriend coming home after a mission sweaty and messy got him hot and bothered and more than ready to climb the blond like a tree, but knowing what he did now…

 

It made his blood boil.

 

Steve had no clue that he had just completed a mission that  _ HYDRA _ had sent him on, fully believing that whoever he just killed, whatever information he just gave to his superiors, he was giving them to  _ SHIELD _ ,  to people that worked for the good of the world. 

 

Tony wanted HYDRA to  _ burn _ . 

 

But first…

 

“Is that  _ blood _ ?!” Tony yelped, darting forward to inspect his lover's chest where blood was staining the uniform. He ran his hands along the large man, patting him down frantically with a need to make sure His Steve was ok, and not fatally wounded. 

 

“Hey, hey,” Steve chuckled, grasping Tony’s hand in a gentle but firm grip. “Relax, Doll, It’s not my blood, I'm fine.”

 

That…. Wasn’t much better actually. 

 

“Oh,” Tony choked out, and shit he would really need to work on his acting skills because  _ holy shit _ HYDRA would kill him if he lied this bad to them. “Good, that’s...good. Ok.” Tony cursed himself when Steve quirked an eyebrow, looking at him with a frown. 

“Hey, are you ok, baby?” Steve released one of his hands, bringing it up to cup Tony’s cheek, stroking the arch with his thumb. 

 

“You look a little pale, hun.”

 

Dear Thor, Tony  _ loved _ Steve’s habit of giving him loving nicknames. 

 

Trying to grasp the acting skills he gained over the years of working the media and the public, Tony gave Steve a bright, fake grin and nodded.

 

“Yeah, babe, I’m fine, just,” and a sudden burst of inspiration hit him from nowhere. 

 

“I got a personal request from one of my best investors, they want me to help them with this project,” Tony faked a scowl. “I told them I was taking a week off but they threatened to pull there funding, and even if they aren’t a huge investor-” Tony shrugged, grimacing.

 

Steve made a sympathetic noise, “You don’t want to lose even a bit of an asset,” Tony nodded, and Steve gave him a loving smile. “I understand Tony, and as disappointed as I am that we won’t be spending the week in bed, I know that you work this hard in order to provide for the team. That’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you, baby doll,” Steve leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. “You take such good care of us, asking nothing in return. It’s amazing,” Steve smiled, picking up Tony’s hand and placing a kiss on them. 

 

“I love you, Doll.”

 

“Love you too, babe.”

 

Well, didn’t he feel like an absolute  _ Dick? _

 

* * *

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! they make my day and help me continue this fic!

 

* * *

 

 

Tony woke up with a yawn and the feeling of Steve’s arm draped around his waist.

Last night they had had fantastic sex that, as usual, made Tony pass out from the pleasure. Tony hoped that Steve didn’t notice the desperate and apologetic feel to the act and that he didn’t notice the way his eyes had shimmered with suppressed tears. 

 

Shifting slightly, tony nudged steve’s arm, and the man, predictably, snorted and turned over, releasing Tony without waking him up. Sometimes Tony wondered how that man survived WW2- the man could sleep through a bomb blast. Swinging his legs over the bed, he stretched, feeling his bones crackle and pop with a satisfying noise to match, and then rubbed his face. Damn, he hated being up this early, but today, he was expecting a call, and he couldn’t be anywhere near Steve when he got it, lest he overhears it with his damned serum-enhanced ears. The last thing Tony needed was Steve finding out before he could tell him himself, if he ever did in the first place, that is. 

 

Reluctantly getting out of bed, he stepped over the trail of clothes that led from their room to the bathroom and stripped and jumped in the shower. For once, Tony didn’t let himself get lost in the feeling of the hot water jetting against his muscles and skin, and just mechanically went through shampoo, conditioner, and body washing. 

 

Getting out, he dried himself with a towel and walked towards the closet. 

 

What did one wear when meeting a crazed Nazi organization? A suit? Casual wear? Leather fetish gear?

 

_ Steve in leather fetish gear… yummy… _

 

Shaking his head, Tony just decided on some casual, but smart clothes that could be worn even if he was getting a little dirty, and quickly put it on, careful to put on his tracker-watch that gave JARVIS his location and health readings at all times. His little boy had permission that if he thought Tony was in distress, and the man didn't respond by pushing the hidden button on the side of the watch-face, JARVIS would alert all the Avengers and Nick Fury for back up and not stop until they responded. 

 

Tony hoped J wouldn’t have cause to do that, but with his luck… better be safe then dead. Not sorry, you’d have to be alive for that, and Tony doubted HYDRA would keep him alive for long if they discovered he was spying on them. 

 

Taking one last look at his lover, Tony smiled at the sight of the blond Adonis in his bed. The Engineer still couldn’t believe that this man loved him, and wanted to be with him. The last thing he thought would ever happen after that disastrous first meeting aboard the helicarrier was that two years later, he would be madly in love with the patriotic Captain and that the feeling would be mutual. Tony still expected to someday wake up and this to have all been a dream, and he was still being tortured in the Afghani cave with a car battery shoved in his chest. Some days he even expected Steve to wake up and realize that he could do better than a 37-year-old ex-alcoholic work-addict with PTSD and a light in his heavily scared chest that still caused him pain. But every day Steve made sure to tell him how much he loved him, how much Tony meant to him, and the older man soaked it up like the emotional sponge he was and made sure to show Steve just how much he loved him back. 

 

The blond was the best thing in Tony’s life, and he hoped to god that what he was doing didn’t ruin what he and Steve had made together. He loved him with all his heart and soul and wasn’t sure what he would do if he lost him. 

 

Probably die, to be honest. He didn't know how he made it this far without Steve. 

 

Sighing and resigning himself to leaving, Tony made his way to the Kitchen and opened the safe he put the packet in, placing his normal phone in it, and taking the burner phone and laptop with its bag out. 

Palming the device, he noticed a note attached to it. His heart stuttering and his palms sweaty, he un-taped it from the back of the device before he hesitantly opened it. 

 

_ Babydoll, _

 

_ Before you freak out, I didn’t read what was in the file, and yes, I knew you had this safe all along. You were acting strange yesterday and I was worried. Whatever your mission is, it must be very important, and by the fact that you never told me, I’m guessing you’re trying to protect me from it. Usually, I would resent that and want to look in the file anyways, but something… I don’t know how to explain it, but something told me that whatever it is,  _ **_I should not know_ ** _ , and you can handle it. I trust you, Doll, and whatever it is you are hiding, whatever this mission is that makes you need a burner phone and a un-traceable laptop….. I just want you to know that if you need help at any time, whatever you need, I’m there. I love you so much, Baby, and I want you to be safe, but I know that I can’t protect my lover from everything. I learned that from… well, I told you about Bucky. Just please, Babydoll, please be safe.  _

 

_ I can’t lose you like I lost Buck.  _

 

_ I love you, _

 

_ XOXO -Steve. _

 

Tony was not crying.  _ He wasn’t. _

 

There was just something in his eye.

 

Oh who was he kidding, he was  _ sobbing _ dammit. 

 

This man, this… gorgeous, caring, loving man was just so fucking  _ perfect  _ and he was so in love with him it was frankly terrifying, holy  _ fuck _ . But it was the best type of terrifying that had his adrenaline pumping and his heart racing, his stomach doing exited flips while his chest tightened with emotions that almost choked him. 

 

God, but he was the luckiest man on earth, to have a guy like Steve Roger standing by him. Even when Steve knew he had lied straight to his face he still- God fucking  _ dammit _ he better come out of this alive, because  _ fuck _ if he wasn’t putting a ring of Steven Grant Rogers finger the minute he could.

 

Reluctantly leaving the note on the counter, he drew a little heart beside Steve’s name before he walked to the elevator. 

 

The minute he got out the door of his building, his burner phone rang.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! they make my day and help me continue this fic!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER CHAPTER IN ONE DAY?!? OMG!!

 

* * *

 

 

Tony hesitated before answering the phone, a bolt of panic shooting through him for what wasn’t the first, and definitely wouldn't be the last time,  _ and he was really gonna be a mess if he kept panicking he really needed to chill _ , and took a breath before ducking into the alley beside his building, shooting a lingering teenager a glare that sent the punk running. Reaching into his pocket for the burner, he mentally braced himself before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

 

When he opened his eyes, The Merchant of Death answered the phone with a smug smirk and an even smugger tone. 

 

“Antonio Stark, how may I serve you today?” The Merchant purred, tapping his fingers against his leg. 

 

“Mr. Stark, I would suggest you lose that smugness if you wish to work for us. HYDRA will not tolerate any  _ backtalk _ , no matter how useful they can be, is that understood.”

 

Acting as if he had just realized who he was talking to, the Merchant cleared his throat.

 

“Understood, sir. I thought you might have been- never mind.” couching, the merchant breathed in. “my apologies, uh- who am I addressing?”

 

“You would think you would recognize my voice, Mr. Stark, I’m was there when they tried to take your suit.” 

 

He didn’t need to act confused, because there were plenty of people at the hearing when they tried to take his suit from him.

 

“Uh, Senator Stern?”  Tony asked, and the man on the other end of the phone snorted. 

 

“Stern is HYDRA, but no, Mister Stark, nice try,” so, Stern was HYDRA. He never did like that man. So who-?

“You would know me as Alexander Peirce, Stark.” 

 

Wait, what? The damn  _ Secretary of Defense  _ was HYDRA? 

 

Shit, this went even higher than Nick thought, and wasn’t Fury gonna be slap-happy that his closest friend, a man he  _ actually trusted _ was HYDRA? Nick was gonna go ape-shit. 

 

“Mr. Secretary, I apologize.” The Merchant demurred. This man had the power to brand even him a terrorist, and barely lift a finger doing so- it would be in his best interests that he stayed very firmly on the man's good side. 

 

“Yes, well. We all make mistakes, Stark,” Pierce sounded amused. “As the head of HYDRA, however, I will encourage you to know that I hope you don’t make many. HYDRA doesn’t recruit people that can’t fall into line.”

 

“Of course sir.”

 

“Enough chit-chat.” Peirce suddenly snapped, and Tony minutely flinched. 

 

“Sir?”

 

“There should be a car waiting for you outside your tower. Get into it.”

 

“Yessir.”

 

“Hail Hydra.”

 

“Hail Hydra.”

 

The words felt like acid on Tony’s tongue. 

 

The Merchant stepped towards the car. 

* * *

 

  
  


Waking up alone was expected, but Steve still sighed as he stared at the empty space where Tony usually lay when he woke up in the morning. The sheets and the mattress were long since cold, and Steve felt a sudden urge to open up that packet and snoop. Two years ago, he would not have hesitated to snoop. Hell, even a year ago he wouldn’t have hesitated. But a year ago he hadn’t trusted that Tony had his and the teams, hell, the  _ worlds _ best interests in mind like he did now. 

 

It wasn’t until he actually got to know Tony Stark for who he really was that he realized just how  _ good _ the man was. He would lay down on the wire and he would stay there until everyone was long past the blast zone, and then he would stay there a bit longer to make sure nobody followed. The man would make the sacrifice play every single time and not bat an eye, even if he knew he could be killed. He cared about everyone with a passion that frankly made Steve feel a little self-conscious, and made him fall in love with the man faster than he thought possible after he lost Buck. 

 

Tony reminded him of Bucky, In a lot of ways, but at the same time, they were so different. Maybe it was the way they grew up, maybe it was the decades between them. Whatever it was, Steve fell in love twice in his life, and both times they were brunette, curly haired, and snarky and full of sass, but with hearts the size of planets and a brilliant mind. He had what people nowadays called “a type” he guessed. 

 

Making his way to the coffee pot, he smiled when he saw the note he had written Tony and the heart beside his name. 

 

Stroking the edge of the paper, he let out a heavy breath. 

 

“Stay safe, Tony.”

 

_ Please come home alive. _

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! they help this fic stay off the ground!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Assets POV. Trigger warning for Torture and all it entails.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The Asset woke.

 

The kick to the stomach would have been sufficient, but it’s handlers liked to cause the Asset as much discomfort as possible, even if the instinct to react or show pain was long since burned out of it (it thinks).

 

The Asset did not remember when it was burned out.

 

It did not remember anything but HYDRA.

 

It only remembered the Mission.

 

“Get up, mutt,” Its handler sneered, kicking the asset in the ribs again.

 

The Asset did not react.

 

It stood up, avoiding the Handlers eyes, as per protocol, and followed the man out of the empty concrete cell, leaving behind the smell of damp and rot that never left the cell, that it could remember. Not that it remembered much.

 

The Asset was led into the rec room, and the Handler shoved it to its knees in the middle of it.

 

“Asset, heel.”

 

It immediately went limp, allowing the Handler to manipulate its body as he so wished. The Handler grasped both metal and flesh hands, and raised them above its head, chaining them with the chain hanging from the ceiling. The Asset was used to this. It had become routine.

 

“Damn, it stinks, when was the last time that thing had a wash?”

 

Last month, the Asset thought, and almost startled Itself at the remembered memory. The water had been ice cold and had felt like knives against Its skin, the blast of the industrial hose hitting its flesh with a painful smashing blast that would have sent anyone else flying into the wall. The Asset, thankfully, was not anyone else.

 

Concussions were… confusing.

 

“Jesus, you’re right,” The main handler said, his voice dripped with disgust. “'Hope Peirce tells us to wash it once we’re done with it. It’s gonna stink even worse after this.”

 

“It always does, Rumlow.”

 

“Yeah yeah, shut up Rollins.”

 

Handler Rumlow finished setting the asset in its chains by attaching the leg cuffs to the floor and then went to stand by the door, waiting for something. Someone.

 

The Asset made sure its head and eyes were lowered to the floor when familiar (?) footsteps entered the room.

 

“Hello, Winter.” This was usual. The Asset had no name unless Peirce gave it one. Unless Peirce called it something, The asset was nameless, it was not a person, it was an it- that did not change- but The Asset gained a name when Peirce was especially pleased with it.

 

“Oh, Winter,” Peirce crooned, stepping closer, and The Asset wanted to flinch at the hand that suddenly pet its hair, but it did not dare to move. Flinching was not allowed, and it would be punished, it had long since learned that lesson, as its many scars had shown.

 

The Asset was not allowed to move without permission because it was not allowed to have a will- only people were allowed to have a will, and the asset was not people.

It was _nothing_.

 

“You will be gaining a new Technician today, Winter, a new Mechanic.” The Asset only let its eyes widen minutely, and thankfully Director Peirce did not notice its lapse, or else what was already coming would be so much worse.

 

But it was used to it.

 

“Your last one met a sticky end, didn’t he, Winter?”

 

The Asset hesitated to reply; it was always unsure of when it was supposed to reply-  it varied randomly. One moment it would be expected to answer, the next it would be harshly struck or jolted with a stun baton if it so much as started a syllable.

 

What was a syllable?

 

A sudden smack to its face made The Asset resist flinching with all its might as the ring on Peirce's finger cut a gash into its cheek, blood immediately streaming from the deep wound.

 

“Answer, Asset!”  Asset. That was… less upsetting, for some reason. The affection when Peirce called it “Winter” sent chills down its spine for reasons it couldn’t remember, and it felt a curl of bile in its stomach every time it tried to remember why.

 

It hurt to remember.

 

“Affirmative.” The Asset intoned, and it heard Peirce chuckle from above it, its head still bowed in submission.

 

“And who’s fault was that, Winter?”

 

“M-mine?” the Asset- the harsh smack on its other cheek, opening up a mirrored gash on that side of its face hit it with the force of steel.

 

“That didn’t sound like a statement Winter,” Peirce stroked a hand through its hair, and The Asset could feel icy fear curl in its gut.

 

The Asset should not feel fear.

 

It was malfunctioning.

 

That is why it needs a new technician.

 

Because the last one-

 

“You tore the last one apart, Winter, it was quite a mess,”

 

Peirce’s hand suddenly grabbed its hair in a harsh grip and pulled its face up to meet its eyes.

 

“You ruined my best suit.”

 

“S-sorry, Sir- I-I’m sorry-” The Asset knew how to beg. Peirce had taught it how thoroughly. Peirce liked it when it begged.

 

“You should be, Winter,” Peirce chuckled, “That suit was meant to be worn at my brother's wedding. It cost quite a pretty penny to get it cleaned. And it cost me a very good drycleaning when we had to dispose of them too,”

 

For some reason, guilt flashed through the Asset.

 

“You need punishment.”

 

The tone of the room changed.

 

It was already tense, the air thick with tension, but the air suddenly crackled with the exited and sadistic glee of all the three people in the room. The Asset didn’t count. It was not people. It was nothing.

 

The Director reached into his back pocket and grabbed his favorite knife, his grip still tight on the Assets hair.

 

“This is gonna hurt you, more than it’s gonna hurt me, Winter,” Peirce cooed.

 

“But you deserve it right?”

 

The only answer was the screams that the Asset couldn't hold back.

 

But it was used to it.

 

It was nothing new.

 

The Asset was used to it.

 

The Asset screamed.

 

Nothing new.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews help the world go round!


	6. Chapter 6

 

* * *

 

 

Tony had always hated awkward silences and tended to fill them with an endless stream of nonsensical chatter that most of the time seemed to drive anybody but Steve and Brucie-bear crazy. Bruce could handle it because Tony usual talked science and he could actually follow what Tony was saying, and Steve…. Well. He explained it once to him when Tony had reacted shocked when the man had replied to one of his rambles with an actually relevant question.

 

_“You were listening to me?” the engineer asked, shocked. Nobody ever listened to his rambling; they either left the room rolling their eyes or pretended to follow along with badly placed nods and ‘uh huh’s’._

 

_Steve frowned, and Tony wanted to kiss the adorable expression away from those pouty lips._

 

_“Of course I was listening to you, Tony,” Steve sounded a bit offended, and Tony quickly backtracked, not wanting to risk whatever fledgling relationship they had started when Steve had kissed him a week ago and  took him on what was frankly, the best date he had ever had, including with Pepper._

 

_“Sorry- sorry,” Tony stammered, waving his hands, grimacing, “Of course you were listening, you always listen to people, it just that- when I ramble people tend to-”_

 

_“Ignore you?” Steve offered, and Tony nodded, rubbing the back of his head._

 

_“Yeah, or tell me to shut up, and I don’t really blame them I mean,” Tony let out a weak laugh, “I can get pretty boring, if I get going, since most of what I say goes over people heads- Not that you’re not smart or anything!” Tony rushed to say, and Steve laughed._

 

_Like, full on belly laughed, making Tony stop his babbling and stare at the way it totally transformed the man from beautiful to_ **_Inhumanly gorgeous_ ** _. Tony realized suddenly that Steve didn’t laugh much, and when he did, it was nothing like this; his whole body moved with the laugh, his eyes crinkled shut and his head thrown back, his mouth open wide as the guffaws passed his lips, and, Tony noticed, an adorable tick of his right hand clutching his left pec, like he was trying to brace himself against the sheer force of his laughter._

 

_It was_ **_captivating_ ** _._

 

_“Oh, Tony,” Steve gasped, his breath heavy from laughing so hard._

 

_“You do remember that I was the greatest Taticion the Army had, right?” Steve stifled his last few giggles, and Tony wanted to do something, say something, that would bring that beautiful; laughter back. “I’m smarter than a lot of people take me for, doll,” And the nickname was new, and made a bolt of warmth shoot straight into Tony’s heart, “and while I may not have the education to completely understand what the fuck you're talking about,”_

 

_“Language,” Tony muttered, a small smirk on his lips, and Steve just rolled his eyes and continued, but with a quirk of amusement on his lips,_

 

_“I know enough basic stuff to get the gist, and to know that you are absolutely_ **_brilliant and fascinating_ ** _,”_

 

_“Wh-what?” Tony blushed and cursed himself for blushing._

 

_“And so damn beautiful, all that passion when you're talking about it,” Steve smiled. “I can tell you are in a whole world of your own. It's amazing, watching you ramble about your projects and ideas. I love listening to you.”_

 

_Tony had no words and just pulled the blond into a mindblowing kiss._

 

Yeah, that was one of his favorite memories of Steve.

But for once, Tony held off on rambling, because he could pretty much guarantee that HYDRA would not put up with his babbling and scientific rambles. He would most likely be shot before he could get past explaining what X equaled.

 

So the car ride was a bit awkward, at least on his part, but he kept his face blank and his hands steady even though they wanted to shake. The driver probably had just as many weapons and as much training as any other HYDRA goon, and since Tony had never been in WW2 with Steve to gauge just HOW trained the average HYDRA goon was, he was not going to risk his brains being used as a decorative piece against the car window because he didn’t like awkward silences.

 

It took tony almost ten minutes in the car to realize that the windows that he could see without stretching to the front seat were tinted so that he couldn’t see where he was being taken.

 

Well, that was… mildly worrying. That meant that HYDRA didn’t trust him yet. While that wasn’t exactly surprising, it told him that he was going to have to do more than have a solid paper trail of his loyalty to HYDRA and his hate of all things Steve Rogers to make the Nazi organization believe he was trustworthy.

 

The thought terrified him.

 

Would he have to kill someone?

 

Hurt someone?

 

_Torture_ someone?

 

…..hurt his team? Pepper? _Steve_?

 

Fuck. he wasn't prepared to do that, he really wasn’t.

 

But… he would have to, he realized. Because if he showed even the slightest hint of disloyalty… if they even suspected he was a plant, a spy….

 

He was pretty sure they wouldn’t just kill him.

 

They would make it slow.

 

Possibly just torture him until….

 

He had to stop thinking, shit, or else he would be thrown into a panic attack that he wouldn’t be able to hide.

 

Taking a discrete breath, as if he was bored, Tony settled back, and let the merchant come forth again.

 

* * *

 

 

When they got to the building, the driver parked in an underground lot, going by the sudden lack of natural light and the orange fluorescent flashes reflecting into the car.

 

When the car stopped and the driver opened his door, The Merchant straightened his clothes and walked towards the man that was standing in the lot that had only a few non-conspicuous cars, the rest armored vehicles.

 

When he stopped in front of the greying blonde, The driver saluted the blond, and then left, leaving the two alone.

 

“Mr. Stark, welcome. Hail HYDRA.”

 

Alexander Pierce looked older in person.

 

The Merchant’s eyes flashed over Peirce’s body and calculated his weak spots.

 

He was unnerved to see that the man did not have many.

 

There was something chilling about the strength the old man held in his deceptively frail body, and it reminded him of another older man that had shown his true colors and deceptive strength.

 

“Director,” Tony-The Merchant nodded, and since they inside and away from the public eye, he did the typical two-handed salute and replied,

 

“Hail HYDRA.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please review! they make this possible!


	7. Chapter 7

 

* * *

 

Tony followed Peirce down the maze-like hallways of what looked to once be a bank. He didn’t recognize which one, a fact that made Tony slightly nervous since he thought he knew all the banks in New York. being a billionaire made him have a knowledge of banks that was definitely not a useful skill. Though he wished for once that it had come in handy here since if he knew where he was, he could be prepared to run and have an escape plan that would actually WORK. not knowing where you are kind of ruins the escape plan, in his opinion. Lack of directional sense tended to get you killed when you’re running for your life.

 

“You’ll soon learn your way around these halls, Stark,” Peirce was saying, and The Merchant paid attention. “Though right now, you don’t have to worry about that too much, since you’ll only be working with The Assets maintenance and programming, and when it malfunctions, correcting it.”

 

“Sir…” The Merchant hedged, “What is ‘the Asset’?” was it a computer program? A robot? A weapon? Or was it an AI? God, he hoped it wasn’t an AI. HYDRA knew his work with AI’s. hell, THE WORLD knew his work with AI’s, there was no way it a freezing cold Hell that he could make HYDRA a sub-par AI, or even falsely improve it, and not give himself away. They knew what he could do, and it made The Merchant more than a little worried about what HYDRA could and would do with an AI the scale of JARVIS. Visions of AI HYDRA take-overs ran through his head before he viciously shoved them into a box. He would worry about that later. right now, he had to pay attention, lest he miss something vital to his role.

 

Peirce smiled beatifically, and something in it sent an icy furl of dread set inside his stomach.

 

“You will see in a moment, Stark.”

 

Tony wasn’t sure he wanted to. The Merchant was intrigued.

 

They Stopped in front of a non-descript door, made of thick steel and bolts, and Tony noticed with a spark of worry that there was what looked like finger-like claw marks starting from the doorway and reaching two feet down the hallway wall, and matching ones on the floor. The marks looked almost like gouges in the wall, and not made by any human hand.

 

Stark had a bad feeling about this.

 

Pierce opened the door with a fingerprint and swung open the door.

 

“This, Stark, is the Asset.” 

 

Tony steeled himself, and The Merchant peered into the cell.

 

* * *

 

Steve sighed as he put down his book, having read the same sentence over and over for the last hour, and not really grasping the words. He was trying to pass the time in any way he could, but right now, he was too worried about his lover to concentrate on “White Fang.” it was his favorite book he had read in the future, and he always loved reading White Fang’s journey, and he always cried at the ending. He had read it over and over, ever since the beaten copy had made its way with the other stuff SHIELD had given him to read when he first defrosted.

 

He hadn’t been called out on a mission today, which was expected since he was supposed to have the next week and a half off, but he could really use the distraction at this point.  Anything, really to stop him from worrying that his lover was out there doing god knows what on a mission Steve had been trying not to think of the fact that Tony had never really done a mission before, or at least not one that required a _burner phone and an untraceable laptop_ for shit's sake.

 

The reaction Tony had to knowing it wasn’t his blood last night still bothered him. Usually, that kind of reassurance made Tony calm down and smile, not choke and look at the red stains on his stealth uniform with something resembling horror.

 

“Captain Rogers, Miss Romanov is requesting access to your floor,”

 

Steve looked up, and he really could have cussed out the world at that point. Natasha was the last person that was going to make him not think of missions. Or Tony. Or Missions and Tony. Shit, he hated this. He hated it _so_ much.

 

“Yeah, JARVIS, let her up,” Steve sighed.

 

“Are you sure, sir? I could inform her you are unavailable if you prefer.”

 

Despite his mood, Steve found a fond smile twitch at his lips. JARVIS cared about everyone just as much as Tony did. Steve always considered Jarvis and Tony’s bots as people, not machines. They had likes, dislikes, emotions… they were just as human as Steve.

 

“That’s alright, but thank you, buddy.”  

 

“You’re very welcome, Steve,” JARVIS replied, fondly.

 

The elevator dinged not that much later, and Natasha walked in, a smile on her face.

 

“Hey, Steve,” she walked up and clapped him on the arm, smiling. “Heard you were here all alone, needed some company, thought I could help with that.”

 

Steve smiled at her and nodded. He would have to make sure to tell JARVIS and thank him for looking out for him.

 

“Thank’s, Nat. I really could. Tony’s out and I just-” He huffed.

 

“Aw, you miss him already? You’ve got it bad, Rogers,” she teased, and Steve blushed.

 

“Everyone knows how in love with him I am, Tasha,” Steve whined, “Is it a surprise that the one week we get off and have time to see each other, he gets called away?”

 

Natasha’s teasing smile softened, and she patted his cheek.

 

“I’m sorry, Steve. Everyone knows how much you two were looking forward to this week. We were even going to leave you two to your own devices,” She smirked, “Maybe finally teach Thor and Clint how to cook without killing everyone.”

 

He laughed. Yeah, those two could really use some cooking lessons.

 

“Yeah, well I’m not that much better, ‘Tasha.” Steve pointed out, smiling.

 

“Well, then I’ll just have to teach you, won’t I?”

 

“Where do we start?”

 

“Do you have a whisk?”

 

“.....whisk?”

 

“Oh boy.”

 

Later when Natasha left, Steve thanked JARVIS for sending Natasha up and frowned when the AI hesitated.

 

“...JARVIS?”

 

“I’m afraid I didn’t send Miss Romanov, sir. I didn’t send anyone.”

 

Then how did Natasha-?

 

Oh.

 

_She knew._

 

She knew about Tony’s mission.

 

_And she didn’t tell him._

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, they are my third lifeblood next to Coffee and Chocolate!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this is a long chapter.

  
  


* * *

 

 

The first thing The Merchant noticed was that this was no room. This was clearly a cell, about seven foot by eight foot, and made of concrete. The second thing he noticed was that it  _ smelled _ . Like rot, and old blood, and even urine. The Merchant wrinkled his nose at the disgusting scents. The third thing, that distracted him from the rest of it, was that the room was not empty. In fact, it had one lone occupant. 

 

And it was no robot, AI, or programme. 

 

It was a man. 

 

With a metal arm? 

 

“Sir?” The Merchant looked to Pierce in confusion. “Is this-?”

 

“The Asset, yes. It doesn’t look like much right now, but when it heals up, It will be a thing of beauty, Stark. It helped us shape the century.” 

 

It. Peirce kept calling the man, this ‘Asset’, an ‘It’. Like the man wasn’t even human, worthy of any pronoun, of any distinction of gender. In the back of The Merchant’s mind, Tony Stark raged, wanting to strangle Peirce and grab this beaten ‘asset’ and leave. He didn’t care that the Asset had apparently been ‘shaping the century’ for HYDRA; clearly, he wasn’t doing it willingly. Nobody asks for.. _ that _ .

 

The man had knife wounds and bruises all over him, but The Merchant was shocked to see before his very eyes that each wound was healing faster then what could possibly be normal. 

 

“He’s healing fast, Sir,”The Merchant ticked an eyebrow.

 

“Yes,  _ it _ ,” Pierce gave him a sharp look, stressing the derogatory term, and The Merchant nodded, even as Tony wanted to leap forward and punch those white teeth out and shove them down Pierce's throat. “-does. It’s enhanced, with a knock-off of the serum. Dr. Arnim Zola gave the Asset it, and it’s worked quite well over the years.”

 

“Sir,” The Merchant slowly drawled, confused, math running through his head. Zola but he died in-? But that would make the Asset- “Zola died way before h-It could have been born. How is that possible?”

 

Peirce smirked at him. 

 

“The Asset is far older than you or I, Stark, even if it doesn’t look it. Hydra made use of Cryogenics and his serum to make that happen.”

 

Cryo-? Jesus F Christ, the poor Bastard. Tony felt for the sad man in the cell and wished he could see the rest of his face, not just the sad eyes that tracked them while his mouth and lower face were hidden behind a black mask. 

 

“The mask, sir?”

 

“It’s more like a muzzle, Stark,” Pierce smirked, “Bad dogs that bite get one, and It’s last Mechanic got ripped apart, quite literally by that bite. That is why we brought you in.”

 

The Merchant...felt a slight sliver of fear worm down his spine. 

 

Tony Stark just wanted to help this “Asset”. 

 

They both felt dread. 

 

Making sure not to act like he wanted to tear out Peirce’s throat with his bare hand and shove the organ up his Nazi ass, The Merchant looked at Peirce in the eye. 

 

“How do your Mechanics, the previous ones, normally treat It?” The Mechanic...Tony.. had an idea. 

 

“Well,” Peirce smirked, “Like he should be, A machine, a weapon. An object. A dog.”  

 

Raising his brows, the mechanic replied, his voice toeing the line, going by Peirce’s slight glare. 

 

“Excuse me if I am overstepping sir, but you do know that I am Antonio Stark, correct?” 

 

“I do, Stark, what is your point,” Peirce narrowed his eyes, and The Merchant bowed his head, slightly hunching over, even though he inwardly seethed at showing any type of substance to this HYDRA fuck. 

 

“I treat all my Machines like people, sir,” Tony pointed out. “And I get fabulous results from that. I’m of the mind that if you treat a machine badly, it will lash out, no matter how you programme it. The same goes for dogs. If you treat a dog badly it will bite, and eventually, It will run away to find someone who can treat it properly.” Tony made sure Peirce was listening and continued. “I’m sure your methods are...somewhat effective, but I have a suggestion that can get you better results, If I may.”

 

Peirce looked at him for a few moments, scrutinizing him with sharp eyes. Tony fought not to fidjit under the gaze. 

 

“I’m listening.” 

 

“I propose that I treat the Asset like any other person. Specifically, like I would treat one of my Bot’s. The results will make the Asset much more Handler-friendly and better at...well I’m not sure if you use Asset for undercover-”

 

“Not anymore,” Pierce said slowly, his eyes lighting up, “Because he became too erratic, but with what you’re proposing-”

 

“I could make The Asset into a stable emotional state so that  **_he_ ** could turn into an amazing Undercover operative, In fact-” Tony was hit with an absolute spark of brilliance. “The Asset could help me take down the Avengers from the inside, sir. They are a pathetic bunch of suckers for lost strays.” 

 

Peirce looked like he automatically wanted to refuse, but then nodded, a slow, maniacal grin on his face. 

 

“You know, Stark,” Peirce laughed. “You have just given HYDRA a great boon,”  he clapped him on the shoulder, then gripped it tight, leaning close to his ear. 

 

“If you betray HYDRA, Stark,” He hissed, and The Mechanic made himself still, “If you lose us The Asset,” Peirce shook His shoulder. “You will replace him,” Tony shivered.

 

“Do we understand each other Stark? Or are you not loyal to HYDRA?”

 

Tony gulped. The Merchant nodded.

 

“Hail HYDRA.”

 

“Good man.”

 

* * *

 

  
  


Natalia Alianovna Romanova was not somebody that usually felt guilt over missions or secrets. The lesson had been beaten, quite literally, into her when she was a young girl in the Red Room. she had joined the Avengers and never thought she would gain the emotional attachments to them she had gained when she had gotten to know them all. The last thing Natasha had expected was to  _ love _ them. Love was for children, another lesson, one she had not been taught, per say, but had learned through her life. Love was a construct that children dreamed of to make themselves feel better. To make themselves whole. A widow was not whole. She was empty so that she could wear another's skin, make a mask out of nothing, and not feel emotions that would distract from the Mission. 

 

But she had grown attached to this little band of super-powered misfits. Had grown to... _ love _ them, even. Like family. 

 

Steve, though… he reminded her of her little brother, Nickoli, who was killed by another girl in the Red Room. Nickoli was always so innocent, but always stood up for what was right, and had the biggest heart. Steve even looked slightly like his, only with blue eyes not green, and Steve’s hair was a few shades lighter. 

 

Steve had grown on her like a little brother, and she tried to protect him whenever she could. So Fury asking her to  _ lie _ to Steve about what Tony was doing on this Mission, about  _ who _ exactly, Tony was infiltrating (walking into the snake’s den) and that his lover could very well be killed, most likely would see things that would make the last bit of innocence Tony Stark had, disappear… Natasha felt like the lowest scum. And SHe felt rage at Nick for possibly destroying a loving relationship that could break up and ruin the little family she had gained and grown to love with the little heart she had left. 

 

She had kept her caring and normal mask up while she stayed with Steve. She couldn’t let him see that anything was wrong. Not before she bitched out Fury. 

Steve was clearly worried, and rightly so, considering. She knew it would be even worse if he knew what exactly Tony’s Mission entailed. 

 

“You ok, Steve?” Natasha asked the blond as she left, and he smiled sadly. 

 

“Yeah, I’m just missing Tony. I mean, I don’t usually wake up without him there anymore, you know? So I can usually say goodbye, but… this Investor is really wanting Tony there as fast as possible, and you know Tony… always taking care of us.”

 

“I know Steve,” she nodded sympathetically. “I hope you feel better, but I have to go, so you enjoy those… Muffins.” 

 

Steve chuckled and shrugged. 

 

“I told you, I can’t cook,”

 

“Or bake, Apparently,” she teased, and he laughed, blue eyes sparkling but still sad.  _ Damn you, Nick _ , she thought. 

 

“Yeah yeah, Tasha, get going.”

 

“Roger, Rogers,” Natasha through him a sloppy salute, then left:

 

She had a SHIELD Director to bitch out.

 

* * *

 

 

Storming into Nick’s office, she walked right up to the desk and crossed her arms, glaring at him. 

 

“What the  _ hell _ , Nick,” She spat, and he looked at her with an unimpressed glare. 

 

“I hope you have a good explanation for this display, Agent Romanoff, cuz’ I ain’t in the mood for any shit today.”

 

“Oh, I bet you aren't,” She grit her teeth. “Are you even keeping tabs on Antoshka? Or are you just letting him infiltrate and spy on a secret, violent and dangerous Nazi organization without  _ any _ backup?” 

 

“Natasha-”

 

“You did that to me and Clint in Budapest, Nick, and that turned out Just amazing,” She pointed out, voice dripping with sarcasm, “ and that wasn’t even close to how dangerous HYDRA is,”

 

“Natasha-”

 

“Antoshka has no experience with this! You will get him killed! And If you lose Tony, you can be damn sure you with loose Steve because when he finds out what exactly Tony’s mission is, you can be damn sure he will go running to his lover’s side, reckless and stupid, and not even look both ways before he crosses HYDRA’s road. You will get them  _ both _ killed!”

 

“ **_Natasha_ ** !” Nick snapped, and she jerked back. 

 

“What?” 

 

“This is more than what you think, I know for a fact Stark can do this.”

 

“Do you know something I don’t? Because You don’t have an experience of Tony’s-”

 

“You remember Afghanistan?” 

 

Natasha nodded, “Yes, everyone does, Nick, what’s your point?”

 

“Stane? Vankov? Hammer? Hell, Multiple Avengers missions where Stark is  _ just a little bit more dangerous _ ?”

 

Natasha nodded slowly, confused about where Nick was taking this. 

 

“Yeah, I remember, why?”

 

“Because we’ve been watching Stark from the moment he came back from the desert, and we have noticed a startling pattern that shows me that Stark can make HYDRA think he’ll be their golden goose.”

 

“I’m listening.” and she really was. What kind of thing did Nick notice that showed Tony being able to join HYDRA’s ranks, let alone do it and become something the coveted?

 

“Stark was always a loose cannon, even before he got kidnapped and blew up a terrorist camp,” Nick stood up and pressed a key on his desk, showing multiple videos. 

 

Of Tony. 

 

“You’ve been spying on him?” 

 

Nick looked at her in disbelief and she grimaced. 

 

“Never mind, go on.”

 

“So we watched him because we didn’t know how this would affect him if it would make him a threat that we would have to put down, or an asset that we could use-”

 

“Nick-” she snarled, incensed that he would think of using Tony that way, but he went on, ignoring her. 

 

“But he turned into his own asset, and we noticed something pretty damn new at certain times of… distress. When himself or people he cares about are in mortal distress, Stark tends to..change.”

Natasha hesitated.

 

“Like… Banner?” she pressed.

 

“Not exactly, more like an alternate personality, but without the big green body switch.”

 

“He has… another Person in his head?”

 

“We call him  _ The Merchant of Death _ .”

 

“Have you ever met him?”

 

“Once.” 

 

“What happened?”

 

“I almost lost my other eye. The Merchant doesn't like being lied to about fake deaths of friends.”

 

* * *

 

 

Steve Rogers, despite what a lot of people thought, was not a stupid person. Sure, he was big, blond, buff, and never finished High School, but he's already brilliant tactical mind along with his observant eyes and even his acting skills got quite the boost when the Serum was put in his body. The serum made the perfect body for war, and the perfect mind for it too, but since he was a good man, as Erskine had pointed out, he wasn’t as bloodthirsty for it like Red Skull. He was more tactical, more planning and, despite what even more people thought, good for espionage. Though, nobody ever asked him about that particular skill.

 

They just wanted a hammer they could knock all the Nazi’s down with, not a nail that can seal the coffin, or sanding paper to smooth the rough edges. 

 

So he wasn’t stupid; It took him a few moments after his realization before he recalled all the minute expressions on Natasha’s face as she kept him company, along with the stiffness as she walked faster than usual out the door. She was meeting fury, and she was going to most like give him a piece of her mind.

 

Whatever Tony was into, he was into it neck-deep, and it made even Natasha stark bristling her protective rage. 

 

Unconsciously, Steve’s eyes when towards the safe where Tony hid the briefing packet in. He told Tony he wasn’t going to look, said he trusted him, that he trusted he was doing it for the right reasons. But at this point, Steve was beginning to think that trust wasn’t enough. Tony could be in real danger on whatever Nick had thrown him into, and Steve really didn’t want to find out Tony had been killed because he put trust over his lovers' safety. 

 

“JARVIS?”

 

“I am at your service, sir.”

 

“Did Tony tell you not to let me read the packet?”

 

“....No Captain. Sir said no such thing,” Jarvis paused, “Are you quite certain you want to open it, Steve? Sir might not be...happy.”

 

Steve sighed, shaking his head. “I know, Jarv, but I just want to keep him safe, just like you, right?”

Steve waited with bated breath until JARVIS replied;

 

“Of course, Steve. I’m sure Sir will understand.”

 

“Thank you JARVIS,” Steve smiled.

 

“Of course, Steve.”

 

Walking to the safe, he opened it with the code (Their anniversary, Tony? How adorable) and reached in, bring out the packet. 

 

He hesitated, again remembering that he had told Tony that he had trusted him enough not to look, and remembering the earlier feeling that he shouldn’t snoop. But this was Tony, his lover, his friend, family. He couldn’t stomach having something bad happen to the older man when he could have gotten off his ass and done something about it. He didn’t want to lose Tony like he lost… he just couldn’t do it. 

 

The last thing he wanted to do was break Tony’s trust, but like JARVIS said, he was sure Tony will understand. Tony loved him, and Steve loved him back. If it was Steve in this situation, he had no doubt that Tony wouldn’t have even waited half as long as Steve had to snoop. He probably would be on his way, out the door to save the day, as always. 

 

_ “I have a plan: Attack!” _

 

Bringing it to the couch, He sat down, and began to read.

 

* * *

 

 

“When will the Asset be ready to infiltrate the Avengers, Stark?”

 

Peirce had sent one of the Hydra goons to get the Asset washed and prepared for maintenance and then brought Tony to the Lab/ office (BIG office holy shit) where he would be working on/with ‘The Asset’. 

 

“I don’t know, Sir.” The Merchant answered, holding Tony back from reaching out and strangling the arrogant fuck, “Years of The Asset being treated like a dog has probably done a number on his psyche. With the serum, it could take from a week to a couple months.”

 

Peirce snorted. “I hope you have a better answer than that, Stark.”

 

“I’m not that Kind of Doctor, Sir. I’m working on this from my experience with a therapist after I got back from the desert. I can’t tell you how long it’s going to take to get the Asset up to the level where he won't be confused if Steve Rogers says thank you, or if Clint Barton claps him on the back, he won’t flinch.” 

 

Peirce gave him a flat look, his hands tapping the table. Once again, The Merchant observed the deceptive strength in the old man and the dangerous feeling that made him almost twitch. 

 

“You’re right, Stark,” Pierce said, giving him an appraising look, “You’re not that kind of Doctor. But you were able to make sure the Avengers didn’t fall apart and even get along. Even were able to make Steve Rogers fall in love with you. I’m sure this will be a walk in the park. HYDRA is all about order Stark, and an agent of HYDRA can’t not have order.”

 

The threat was clear.  _ Make this work, or you’re dead. _

 

“Understood, sir.”

 

The door suddenly slammed open, and Tony looked towards it, startling. 

 

“Ah, Rumlow, thank you for bringing it.”

 

The Asset, Tony noticed with a burst of sympathy, was half-naked and shivering, his hair dripping wet around that mask and his skin pale like snow. The bruises had faded and the cuts were more like scratches now, much to Tony’s surprise. 

 

“Asset, Come,” Peirce snapped, and when the Asset hesitated, shivering, the goon, Rumlow (and wasn’t one of Steve’s STRIKE team members named Rumlow? _ Fuck not good. _ ) shoved the Asset forward, and he stumbled towards them, whining, fear flashing in the wide eyes hidden behind a curtain of wet brown hair.

 

Nope. 

 

Not gonna happen.

 

“Ok,” Tony said, shaking his head, “First step, no manhandling him.”

 

“You mean **_It_** -”

 

“Second step-” Tony interrupted Rumlow, “he now has a gender, and since I’m sure he has no clue what a gender is, let alone can tell us what he prefers, I’m going with him, to stop any confusion.”

 

“The hell-” Rumlow snarled, taking a step forward, clearly wanting to attack Tony. 

 

“Rumlow,” Peirce said, making the goon back off, still glaring at Tony. “Stark is going to be… rehabilitating the Asset, in order for him to be able to infiltrate the Avengers and take them down from the inside. You will follow his suggestions, is that clear?”

 

Looking like he wanted to argue, Brock nodded, gritting his teeth. 

 

“Yes, Sir.” 

 

“Leave.”

 

Rumlow nodded, shooting one last glare at Tony, then left.

 

Turning to Pierce, Tony mentioned another thing. 

 

“Step three, the muzzle has to go. He can’t feel human if you’ve dressed him like a dog.”

 

Giving him an assessing look, Peirce nodded.

 

“He DOES actually bite, you know.”

 

“Sir, please.” bile raised in his throat. He hated begging, let alone to HYDRA scum. HYDRA didn’t deserve his begging. 

 

Peirce looked like he was going to refuse, and for a few moments they stood there staring at each other, the Asset standing there like a shaking, cold doll, his eyes darting between them both behind his long, wet hair.

  
  


Nodding, Peirce motioned for him to take it off. 

 

Reaching towards the Assets face, Tony shushed the man gently when he flinched and whined as his hands came around his neck to unclasp the straps.

 

It was harder than he thought, the straps tight enough that it had to hurt the man and dig into his face. Tony internally raged at the treatment of this man, even though he was sure that the Asset had killed a lot of people, there was no doubt in Tony’s mind that the Asset had absolutely  _ no choice _ , no control. He was a weapon to point and shoot.

 

Like they were using Steve.

 

Tony felt a bolt of fear stab his heart when he thought of Steve becoming like the Asset, all flinches and whines, treated like a dog and muzzled. 

 

_ Over his  _ **_fucking_ ** _ dead and cold, desecrated corpse. _

 

When the mask came off, Tony leaned back to get a good look at the Assets face and almost gasped. 

 

Fuck. 

 

_ Shit-shit-shit-shit- _

 

Steve was gonna shit  **_Kittens_ ** .

 

He was not expecting this when he took off the mask, and he felt like a knife was shoved into his gut while simultaneously his chest was filled with eyes, and freezing his veins.

 

The face that stared back at him with sad, grey-blue eyes and sunken cheeks lined with red marks from the muzzle was heartbreakingly familiar. It was a face that he had seen more than once when shown by his father, and later, lovingly shown by Steve, and seen at the Smithsonian, larger than life, albeit with longer hair. 

 

_ Oh, Bucky Barnes, what did they do to you _ ?

 

* * *

 

 

The Asset was confused. It didn’t know why this man (its new Mechanic, according to Handler Peirce) was calling It a ‘him’ or talking to him in a nice voice. Its new Mechanic had told its handlers that they were not to ‘manhandle him’. 

 

Was that not how it was supposed to be treated? It was not worthy of the soft touch that it sometimes saw handler Rumlow and Handler Rollins exchanging. 

 

The Asset was not human, ergo, it was not to be treated as such. Why was this man so nice? To something like it? It was not a good idea to be nice to the Asset in HYDRA, being nice to The Asset got you killed. Many of the Asset’s previous Mechanics were ‘disposed of’ when they began to feel and show sympathy towards the Asset. From what he was hearing, Handler Peirce was  _ letting _ this new Mechanic be kind to him. He didn’t understand it at all.

 

When its new mechanic took off its muzzle, it didn’t understand why the mechanic looked like someone had shot him in the stomach. He remembered that look from... _ somewhere _ . 

 

Peirce eventually left with a few words to its new Mechanic, giving the Asset a  _ look _ , and said ;

 

“You do what Stark says, Asset.”

 

The Asset nodded.

 

When Peirce was gone,  It stood there, confused, while the Mechanic turned and looked at it with wide eyes. 

 

“Do you have a name?” The mechanic asked, and the Asset shook its head.

 

“Everyone has a name.” The mechanic looked like he wanted to say something, but bit his tongue. 

“I am the Asset.”

 

“Yeah, no.” The mechanic said, snorting. “Not happening, anything else?”

 

The Asset hesitated, before offering; “Handler Peirce calls The Asset ‘Winter’ when it pleases Handler Peirce.”

 

The mechanic frowned. “Pleases?”

 

“When the Asset is good, It gains a name,” It rasped. “Handler Peirce is especially pleased when the Asset services him. Would you like the Asset to service you so you can find a name for the Asset?”

 

The Mechanics face when pale, and he shook his head, shouting “NO!”

 

The Asset flinched, cowering, and took a step back, hunching its shoulders.

 

“Sorrysorrysorry-”

 

“No- no, shhh, hey,” The Asset flinched at the hand that grasped its shoulder and took another step back. 

 

The mechanic raised his hands and looked at it cautiously. 

 

“Hey, ok, no touchy right now, that’s fine,” Why was that fine? The Asset should be punished for stepping out of line. That was the usual, that was protocol. 

 

“Ok, so,  _ you _ have no need to be sorry,  _ I’m _ the one that startled you, that’s on  _ me _ , ok?”

 

The Asset was so beyond confused; was its new Mechanic  _ apologizing _ to it?

_ What the hell? _

 

“And no, I don’t want you to - _ Service me _ -, because that is  _ not  _ ok, that’s  _ rape _ -”

 

“What is...rape?” the Asset asked, before flinching. “Sorry, sir,” it whispered, and the man’s face fell, looking just...so _ sad _ , before taking a breath.

 

“Fuck. ok. This is… way beyond me.” the man shook his head, before exclaiming, 

 

“ _ Fuck it, _ ok.”

 

“Sir?” the Asset hesitated, wondering what was happening. 

 

“What would you say if I said I could get you out of here?”

 

* * *

 

 

Steve stormed towards the elevator, Intent on going to Fury’s office and shouting at him and possibly breaking a few Bones, Before the Elevator Opened with a Ding and he saw Natasha standing there with Fury.

 

They both looked grim.

 

“What? What’s going on?”

 

Natasha walked towards him and put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Steve…” 

 

Steve went pale.

 

No.

 

**Nononononononono**

 

“Please,  _ God, no _ ,” Steve gasped, stumbling back. He would have fallen if it wasn’t for Nick and Natasha catching him and bring him towards the couch. They set him down gently and then crouched in front of him.

 

“ _ Please _ , Natasha don’t tell me-”

 

“There was an explosion at a suspected HYDRA base,” SHe hesitated, and Steve shook his head mutely.

 

“ **No** -”

 

“As far as our intel shows, Tony was inside when the blast went off. We don’t know what started it-” 

 

Steve didn’t hear the rest. He sorta- blacked out. 

 

Tony- Fuck, his lover was-  _ god no _ . 

 

_ No.  _

 

_ Please.  _

 

Steve remembered writing the note, signing it with so much love. He remembered falling asleep next to tony, after watching him sleep for almost an hour, his gentle breaths up and down as he lay on his back as per usual with the Arc Reactor, and tracing the pattern of scars that branched out from the glowing device the proved he was still alive. 

 

He remembered saying goodnight, his lover smiling at him, giving him a kiss and a grin before they settled for sleep.

 

He remembered making love to Tony, His cock stretching Tony’s perpetually tight hole with his girth, sliding in and out with every stroke, and how he moaned with want and frantic need, little mewls of pleasure releasing from his plump lips, his body slick with sweat and pre-cum, his eyes hooded and dark. He remembered sliding into the tight heat, his cock gripped by familiar velvet walls and the tiny sob his lover let out as his spongy thick head breached the little hole of his lover, the most intimate part of him. 

 

He remembered kissing the heaving, sweat-slick chest of his lover as he took off his own shirt, moans of want passing his own lips as he sucked on Tony’s nipple, tracing the areola with a wet, pink tongue.

 

He remembered saying “ _ I love you _ .”

 

He remembered not even getting to say “ _ goodbye _ .”

 

“- **_Steve_ ** .” 

 

Steve snapped out of it when he felt a slap to his face.

 

“Wha?”

 

“Steve, you need to snap out of it, ok? We need to make a plan-”

 

“I never said goodbye,” Steve choked, his face heartbroken, tears falling down his cheek. “I never-” 

 

“Oh  _ Stepushka _ ,” Natasha murmured, running a hand through his hair, “I am so sorry.”

 

“Wow, ok. Why is everybody crying?”

 

Three heads Snapped up and looked towards the elevator, and the first thing Steve saw was Tony.

 

“Oh my god, Tony!” 

 

He went to race towards his lover, but someone he didn't see darted out from behind his lover and got in front of him, snarling.

 

Was that-

 

Oh my god. 

 

Ohmygod Ohmygod

 

“ _ Bucky?” _

  
“Who the hell is  _ Bucky _ ?”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill Me! *hides*


	9. Chapter 9

 

* * *

 

 

“He's been with HYDRA the whole time?” Steve whispered, trying not to wake the sleeping man on the couch.

 

“No, uh. He was with The Red Room first, from the files I gathered. The Russians found him at the bottom of the ravine, minus an arm, and, well,” Tony gestured to the As- to James. 

 

They had decided on James.

 

**5 hours earlier:**

 

_ “What would you say if I could get you out of here?” _

 

Tony waited as The As-Buck-Bar- ok, he was sticking with James, for now- widened his eyes, his mouth opening and closing.

 

“I-the Asset does not understand?” James whispered. The poor guy was clearly confused, frightened, and so beyond scrambled in the head it was frankly horrifying.

 

Tony had heard stories about James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes from both his father, and Steve.

He had heard about the man's bravery, about his courage, and how he was a strong, funny guy that could charm the panties off Mother Teresa and take her brazier along with him. He had heard about the charismatic person, the Handsome devil, the kind, loyal friend, and the caring mother hen.

 

He had heard a lot of things about Bucky Barnes, and the empty shell of a man that was looking at Tony in Wide eyed confusion-and was that a bit of hope?- and shivering with cold, was nothing like the man he had been told about. 

 

“Listen,” Tony said softly. “I know you don't remember right now, and that your scared, But you used to be a person, you had a family, friends a…” Tony hesitated, but pressed on, “-a lover. You had a life, and a name; James Buchanan Barnes, your friends called you Bucky. I know somebody who knew you, before you got here, he-” Tony swallowed, and choked out- “ he really misses you, and it would mean the world to him to see you again.”

 

Tony waited for the man to respond, and watched as a crap ton of emotions passed through James’ face. He twitched, hoping that blowing his cover with James wouldn't get him killed, but at this point, he was pretty sure if he didn't get James  **_the fuck out of here_ ** , it wasn't going to be HYDRA that killed him if Steve found out about James and found he didn't tell him… love can only take you so far, after all.

 

“My name… is James?” 

 

Tony nodded slowly,

 

“Yeah, bud, yeah, that's your name.”

 

“I am… a person? I have...friends?”

 

God, this was just… Tony wanted to wrap this man up in a blanket burrito and force feed him hot chocolate and ice cream, and cuddle him to death. His protective side was on overkill with James.

 

“Yeah, James, you have me and...Steve, Steve Rogers, you remember him?”

 

James’ eyes went blank, his face slack, and Tony internally panicked, worried he might have broken Steve's old lover, before James’ face returned to its normal look.

 

“I remember… a blond… he was small and weak… but also… strong and tall?” 

 

James looked hella confused, so Tony decided to explain that bit of mindfuckery.

 

“He was given the original version of the serum HYDRA gave you, James, but it was given to him by people that wanted to help the world, not hurt it, like HYDRA is making you do.”

 

Tony took a cautious step towards James, and watched as the younger (older? Jesus Christ) man watched him warily, but made no move to flinch or step back. 

 

“James… do not like… doing things for HYDRA, James… does not like killing.” 

 

Oh, thank god they hadn't made him enjoy it, but what was with the third person talk? 

 

“Ok, good, that's good, James-”

 

“Winter.” Tony froze.

 

What?

 

“What?”

 

“My name is Winter. Not James.”

 

Gaining a slight but very worrying though in his mind, Tony took another step towards...Winter.

 

“Then who is James? You said James didn't like Killing, Winter. Where is James?”

 

Winter shuffled his feet, then ducked his head down, his eyes darting up and staring at him, and now that Tony wasn't frantic, he could tell the difference from the scared man that he had taken the mask off of, and the predator that now watched him with wary, sharp eyes.

 

“James is… the other me. He… lives in my head… James comes out when I am not needed. I was made to kill. It is all I know. I cannot… dislike all I know. It did not matter. HYDRA controlled me. I could not Stop. But James says you can help. That you are nice.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, we are so gonna have to talk later, about this, but I can help, I am nice. If you come with me-”

 

“To Steve?” The hopeful eyes told Tony that James was back.

 

“Yeah, James, to Steve. You remember him?”

 

James shrugged. “Sorta… I think ya’ knocked somthin’ loose in my brain, I'm gettin’ flashes, and I can think clearly…” 

 

Tony was a bit skeptical, really. After Seventy years of brainwashing and torture, it only took Steve’s name to break it? Granted, Steve Rogers wasn't easy to forget, but that was a bit much.

 

“Really? But-"

 

James shrugged. “The programing was already breaking down, not surprised it only took... Stevie's?... Name to break it down further…” 

 

“Then let's go, I have a plan, and we don't have long, ok?”

 

“....ok.”

 

**5 hours Later.**

 

“...The one that almost bit your arm off when you jumped at me was Winter. So far there's only two in him, but I'm not counting out another.” Tony finished telling Steve.

 

“So… how did you get back here? Wouldn't a half naked man and Tony Stark be a bit… suspicious?”

 

“Wade recommended his cabbie. I like the little guy, he has guts.”

 

“Fuck...Tony…” Steve sobbed,turning and burying his his head in his lover's shoulder.

 

“He’s been alive this whole damn time… I should have-”

 

Tony shushed him, running a hand up and down the larger man's back, wrapping his other hand around Steve and squeezing. He started rocking them back and forth. 

 

“Shhh, babe,” Tony murdered in his ear, “you couldn't have known. You didn't know they put the serum into him, and I really doubt he blames you. It's ok, Steve, it's alright. Shhh..”

 

* * *

 

 

Natasha had waited until Nick had gone, muttering about taking care of a rat, and Steve and Tony and...James had left the room, until she went to her own floor to have her own little freak out.

 

Walking onto her floor, she walked to the fridge and opened it, grabbing milk. She then grabbed some cinnamon and a pan, putting the pan on the Stove, she heated and stirred the milk and the cinnamon, until it was warm, then carefully put it in the mug left on the counter, washed from this morning's coffee. 

 

Her movements were robotic and stiff, and as she walked towards the couch, she took a sip of the warmed milk and absently noticed her trembling hands.

 

How did she not realize this?

 

Yasha had trained her, oh so many years ago, and to have had Bucky Barnes behind that mask the whole time…

 

She didn't know what she was feeling, at that moment.

 

She had missed Yasha. He had been like a father to her.

 

He had cared for her like a daughter, he had said.

 

Now, it seemed, he was back.

 

And she didn't know if he remembered her.

 

* * *

  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

 

* * *

 

 

Tony had been talking quietly to Steve, keeping watch on James as he slept, when he felt a tickle at the back of his mind, then a push.

 

Tony closed his eyes.

 

The Merchant opened his.

 

* * *

 

Steve had been in the middle of a sentence when he felt Tony go still under his arms, and he shifted on the small loveseat he had dragged from the other side of the bedroom to be closer to Bu… to James. 

 

Looking at Tony, he noticed his lovers' eyes clenched shut, his brow furrowed. 

 

“Tony,” Steve murmured, well aware that Tony had mentioned hitting his head (but thankfully not concussed) on his escape with Bu-James,  “You ok?”

 

When Tony opened his eyes, Steve struggled not to jerk back, because the look in those amber eyes was especially  _ not  _ his lover. 

 

“Who are-” Steve was interrupted when the man poked him. Hard. 

 

“The hell-?” Steve frowned. 

 

“You are- bigger. In person,” Steve blinked, oh so very confused. 

 

“Uhm,” the blond mumbled, “in- in person?”

 

“Up close,” The older man clarified, looking him over like he was a particularly intriguing blueprint. “Not in battle. Up close you are…” the dark haired man huffed, looking frustrated. “Warmer. Bigger.” after a moment the man muttered like it was dragged out of him- “safer. You feel safe.” 

 

“Uhm, I’m glad?” Steve stuttered, then coughed. 

 

“Look, uh, do you have a name, or-?”

 

The man looked up at him with a sharp gaze. “I am The Merchant of Death,” he thought for a second. “You may call me Merchant. Winter does.” 

 

“Oh. uh, ok, hello, Merchant, It’s nice to meet you… in person.”

 

When did Tony gain an Alternate personality? Why hadn’t he noticed that his lover had one? Was this some sort of jo- no, Tony would never do that. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Yes, Tony joked around and pranked people, but he didn’t do anything that would hurt them, physically or emotionally. 

 

“Hello, Steve.”

 

They sat in silence for a bit, awkwardly staring at each other. Well, for Steve it was awkward, not for To-Merchant. Merchant just continued to stare at him like he was some fascinating project he wanted to disassemble and poke at and not his other halfs lover. It was both comfortable, and kind of adorable, he had to admit. Merchant reminded him of the younger Tony he had seen in Youtube videos and newspaper clippings. Only The Merchant had darkness in his eyes that Tony’s didn’t hold. Maybe the Merchant held all of Tony’s darkness…? But did that make him more dangerous? Or did it make him like Winter, Dangerous, but able to be more than that, if taught how to be?

 

“So...how long have you been a part of Tony?” Steve asked the burning question. 

 

“Since Afghanistan. He couldn’t handle the torture, so I took it for him. Then I got him out.”

 

“You got him…” Steve wondered, then realized what Merchant meant. “Oh. you…”

 

“Killed all the terrorists, yes. They deserved it.”

 

Steve...wasn’t sure what to think about that. On one hand, the killing was bad, on the other… they hurt Tony, they hurt a lot of people and killed others as well. 

 

“Fair enough,” Steve decided. 

 

A sudden shuffling from the bed made them both look up, and see James sitting up, rubbing his head. 

 

“mmm...Mechanic?” It wasn’t the Russian accented Winter, but the very faded Brooklyn drawl of James. 

 

Merchant stood up, and before Steve could blink, Tony was back. 

 

“I’m here, James,” Tony said softly, “How are you feeling?”

 

Not looking up at anyone, James replied in a soft tone; “I am functional.”

 

Tony sighed, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw. 

 

“That’s not what I asked, James. Are you injured, do you hurt anywhere?”

 

Steve and Tony waited while James’ eyes darted between them and the exits, his body tense, before he slumped, defeated, and croaked out;

 

“...head hurts.”

 

“Ok,” Tony murmured, sitting carefully at the edge of the bed. “Can you tell me, on a scale of  a pain scale from 1, meaning aching a bit, or 10, excruciating pain, how bad does your head hurt?”

 

James bit his lip, looking at them warily, and seemed to think hard about his answer, lines of tension in every facet of his being. 

 

“...maybe...8?”

 

Steve, guessing that James’ idea of 8 on the pain scale, due to seventy years of HYDRA captivity would be far stronger than a normal person, meaning 8 would have dropped a normal human screaming incoherently, shot Tony a wide-eyed look of worry. 

 

“Ok, James, I think that hurts pretty bad, right?” 

 

James nodded, reluctantly. 

 

“I have a friend, whose not a medical Doctor, but has experience unofficially,” Steve could see James’ eyes widen and Tony could to by the way he raised his arms. “Hey, Shh, it’s ok, bud. Bruce is nice. In fact, he’s the nicest guy you can meet. Just…” Tony bit his lip, “Don’t make him mad. He’s kinda like us, except his other half is big and green and likes to come out when somebody hurts him, and Hulk likes to smash.”

 

It didn’t seem to reassure James, so Steve took over, hoping that he wouldn’t scare the traumatized man. It seemed like the slightest wrong word would send the tense man running.

 

“I can vouch for him, Bu-James. He’s really nice, he’s patched me n’ Tony up a lot, before, so you don’t have to worry, ok?”

 

There didn’t seem to be much recognition in James’ eyes, which made Steve’s heart clench in his chest, and his eyes prick with water. God, but he wished a miracle would happen and Bucky would just get up and remember everything, would just call him Stevie and hug him and-

But this was reality.

 

“...ok…” James rasped. “I...trust you.” and there was something in those eyes, something that made Steve’s heart fill a tiny bit with hope. 

 

“Thank you...James.” Steve smiled, hesitantly. 

 

James gave a small smile back.

 

* * *

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m gonna call Bruce, ok James?” Tony told James, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. James didn’t answer for a few minutes, and Tony tried not to sigh. He was trying his hardest, but he was not used to being so patient. He liked to go-go-go and never stop, which was one of the things Steve found annoying about him, but Tony had told him would probably never change. Though Steve certainly tried.

 

“...no hurt?”

 

“No, James,” Steve reassured him, his jaw clenched and ticking, “no hurt.”

 

“It hurts, Mechanic,” James mumbled, nose scrunching up adorably.

 

_No, not adorable. Shut up brain, you are so not helpful_.

 

“I know, buddy,” Tony said, wondering if he should put a hand on James to reassure him, or not. He wasn't sure how the man would react, and he didn’t want to scare the guy even more. The last thing he needed was a scared, highly trained assassin on the loose.

 

“...call,” James said, simply, not looking at them.

 

Tony cleared his throat.

 

“I’m going to use JARVIS to call Bruce, so you’ll hear a voice from the ceiling,” James looked at him suspiciously, a hint of Winter in his eyes, and Tony rushed to explain before Winter came out and decided to protect James from a perceived threat. “JARVIS is a program I created years ago, he’s an AI, so he has no body. He listens to me and is very nice. I made him.”

 

James sucked his lip in his mouth, looking at Tony with worry in his eyes.

 

“Is he… like me? An Asset?”

 

Tony’s eyes widened in horror, and he could hear Steve stifle a gasp.

 

“NO!” James flinched at the yell, and Tony winced, oops, _nice going idiot, yell at the traumatized person_. "Sorry for yelling, but no, JARVIS is my friend, he-” here, Tony hesitated, because he hadn’t told anyone this yet, but he trusted Steve, and to be honest, he didn’t know how to convince James otherwise. “JARVIS is his own person. He has- he has free will,” Oh he could practically _hear_ Steve’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “He is not an Asset.”

 

“I assure you, James, sir is correct. I choose to do what sir says because he created me, and I will forever adore him for it. Sir is my father.”

 

_Don’t cry. Dammit._

 

“Jarvis,” Tony said quietly, call Bruce.”

 

The conversation was short and to the point, and Tony hung up and got James off the bed and waiting with them in the living area so Bruce didn’t have to search for them.

 

James was practically as tense as a statue when the elevator dinged, and Bruce walked out, but Tony, carefully, put a hand on his arm to see if it would help. Other than a slight flinch, Bucky didn't move away- he even seemed to lean into the touch, and relax a little.

 

Steve strode forward and talked to Bruce in hushed tones, then gestured toward James.

 

Bruce nodded at something Steve said, and he could feel James tense at whatever it was, so he rubbed James flesh arm gently and slowly, and the man relaxed again.

 

Bruce stepped forward but kept his distance, mindful of the ex-assassins trauma.

 

“Hello, James. My name is Bruce. Steve tells me your head is really hurting you?” Bruce was keeping his voice gentle and quiet, his hands in front of him, making sure he didn't seem like a threat.

 

James nodded, and murmured,

 

“Nine.”

 

Bruce shot them, Steve and Tony, a confused look- was Bucky speaking German now?

 

“No? Your head isn't hurting you now?”

 

Bucky frowned.

 

“ _Niet,_ nine.”

 

Russian? What-?

 

“Oh,” Steve breathed. “He means _nine,_ like the number. He said eight earlier so- shit, It must have gotten worse,”

 

Steve looked like he was about to panic, so Tony took over, turning to James.

 

“James, I’m going to be with you the whole time, but Brucie-bear here needs to take some scans of your brain, ok? Just to see if there's anything wrong with it.”

 

James ducked his head, biting his lip, his hair falling into his face in a greasy curtain. Jeez, Tony doubted if they ever even shampooed James’ hair, let alone conditioned it. It was a luxury that Tony and everyone else took for granted.

 

“...ok,” James whispered. “Bu-uhm, can the- can Captain Rogers come too?”

 

Tony gave Steve a look; Clearly, James didn’t remember as much as they thought he did, or the man that told Tony he was remembering stuff was a whole ‘nother personality. Great.

 

“Yeah, bud, sure, whatever you need to feel comfortable, ok?” Tony had no clue why he kept calling James ‘buddy’ or ‘bud’, but for some reason, it felt right. James felt younger. More vulnerable than Winter, of whoever Tony had talked to with the Brooklyn drawl.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Not sparing any more time, they rushed James to the Avengers private medical floor, where Bruce prepared the MRI.

 

Getting James into the machine was an exercise in patience, and put a strain on all of there nerves, but they eventually got James to relax enough that Bruce could get some scans.

 

They quickly got a trembling James out of the MRI scanner, and wrapped him in a blanket, and were all equally surprised when he curled into Tony’s side, hiding his face in his chest.

 

Bruce was about to say something but stopped when the Pictures loaded up on the screen.

 

“Oh,” Steve said numbly, and Tony agreed.

 

You didn’t have to be a Doctor to understand just how Not Good James’ brain was at the moment.

 

“That’s.. A lot of damage,” Bruce said slowly. “How- how is he still functional?”

 

They looked at the man curled up into Tony, who just curled up tighter, and snuffled.

 

“Maybe the serum? James told me he had a version of it in him, could that keep him… functioning?”

 

“I’m not an expert, but- maybe?” Bruce didn’t sound sure, but it was the best idea they could come up with, really.

 

“Is it possible that Alternate personalities could keep him running…?”

 

“I.. I don’t know. To be honest, Steve, people with this amount of Brain damage are usually dead, or a vegetable. Not… walking and talking, or… assassination, as it were.”

 

“He doesn’t do that anymore.” The snap came from both Steve and Tony, and Bruce raised his hands.

 

“Ok, sorry. I just meant, scientifically and medically speaking, he should be a drooling mess or cold on a table.”   Bruce bit his lip and looked back at the scan.

 

“Though I think I see some signs of healing, around his medial temporal lobe, specifically his amygdala and his neostriatum, and his prefrontal cortex, which is a little less damaged.”

 

“...for those of us who don’t speak doctor?” Steve strangled out, sound so damn _tired_. Tony put the hand that wasn’t around James around Steves' waist, and the man sighed.

 

“Basically, it means his decision-making (his Prefrontal cortex) is damaged, to what extent I don’t know, though it could make him confused and more suggestible. His long-term and short-term memory are damaged, so he will definitely have some trouble remembering things, to what extent, I just can’t tell you. As for retaining memories… he will most likely have some trouble with that, too. And seeing as how he has the Serum, even an offshoot, it might heal. But…”

 

“But..?” Tony prompted, tense.

 

“I wouldn’t be surprised that even if he does heal as much as the Serum lets him, he won’t have some sort of residual damage,” Bruce grimaced. “Maybe if he had Steve’s Serum, it would be different but… we don’t even know what damaged his brain this way. I can’t tell you what caused it, so I can’t tell you all the different factors that could affect his healing. I’m sorry, guys.”

 

Steve let out a deep breath through his nose, then rubbed the bridge of his nose.

 

“It's… well. It’s not ok, but, Thanks for the help, Bruce, is there gonna be follow up, or-?”

 

“Yes, of course,” Bruce nodded, taking another glance at the scans. “I want to monitor the rate of his healing. I should probably get a scan at least once a week, at the least. I would prefer every three days, just to be cautious, but I don’t think that would be ok with James. He doesn’t seem to like the MRI that much.”

 

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, “It took a lot out of him. I don’t know what it reminded him of, or if he _could_ remember, but whatever it was,” Tony shook his head. “I’m sure it was nothing good.”

  


* * *

 

James was…

 

He was...

 

Scared.

 

The big machine with the clunky sounds had terrified him, reminding him of a mix of The Chair and his Cryo, making him want to tremble. But Mechanic had told him he had to stay super still and not move, and he did not want to make the nice man angry at him. Anger hurts.

 

* * *

 

 

Winter calculated the threat level of the man, Bruce, as he came into the room via the elevator.

 

The man seemed unassuming, but Winter could _see_ the tightly coiled rage hidden in the seemingly meek man's body, and he fought the urge to surge forward and attack the man. Mechanic trusted this man.

 

Winter trusted the Mechanic.

 

He would wait, and watch.

  


* * *

 

  


In the depths of James’ mind, Bucky Barnes shivered.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	12. Father's Day Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, there's no Howard ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special Chapter for Father's Day!

 

* * *

 

 

After the appointment with Bruce, James was still curled up in Tony’s side, and the Engineer was loath to move him. Tony looked helplessly at Steve and the little shit just shrugged and gave him a (slightly dimmer than usual) grin. 

 

“He seems to like you, Tony,” Steve looked sadly at Bucky, and Tony winced. Poor Steve; the man had just found out his long-thought-dead lover/best friend was still alive, but was changed, and didn’t seem to remember him or want much to do with him.

 

“Yeah, he’s a real-life Bucky-bear,” Tony rolled his eyes, then paused, eyebrows furrowing, and he peeked down at the man snuggled into him, and his eyebrows raised when he saw James was asleep, breaths lightly puffing against his shirt, little snuffles, and his nose wrinkling occasionally.

 

_ He is  _ **_not_ ** _ adorable, shut up brain _

 

It was fucking adorable. 

 

Dammit. 

 

“He’s asleep again?” Steve wondered, looking at Bruce with a frown. “Is that normal?”

 

“Well,” Bruce hummed, “Healing usually makes people tired, the body conserving energy to but towards the healing process, that’s why when you’re sick, you should get more sleep and you feel more tired, and why doctors recommend sleep when your healing, well, anything. Your brain needs sleep in order to work the process, and seeing as what’s healing  _ is _ James’ brain, I would think he would require more sleep than average, though,” Bruce tilted his head, “I’m not sure how the serum would affect that. With Steve, he usually heals fast enough that he doesn't need as much sleep, but James’ serum is an offshoot of Erskine’s original, and I haven’t had time to study it properties yet-” shooting a look at Steve he hesitantly added, “But I won’t do that without James’ consent, of course. He’s been poked and prodded against his will enough. I doubt HYDRA just used him for assassination.”

 

Tony scowled, shifting his grip on James, absentmindedly running his hand through his hair. 

 

“If that’s true, why aren’t there more super-soldiers? Wouldn’t seventy years be enough to recreate the serum?”

 

Steve nodded, “Yeah, I mean, sure it’s probably hard to do, but seventy years should have been more than enough, if they had Bu-James all this time, with the serum in his blood. Why haven’t we encountered it before?”

 

Bruce seemed honestly puzzled by the question, and rubbed a hand over his mouth. Looking at James, he said;

 

“I honestly don’t know. And to be frank…” he hesitated, “that makes me worry about why we haven’t seen any more Super-soldiers.”

 

Tony cleared his throat, and asked, quietly, 

 

“What if they did? And we just haven’t seen them?”

 

That… was a terrifying thought. 

 

* * *

 

  
  


Natasha had forced herself out of her funk after two hours of indulging in self-pity, then did what she always did when in emotional turmoil.

 

She trained. 

 

The Avengers' gym was actually made up of three floors of the Tower;

 

One floor was regular (but made for each avengers strengths and weaknesses) gym equipment, like treadmills, dumbbells, punching bags, a sparring ring, and basically enough equipment to make a gym-nut drool.

 

The second floor was a running track, made for wet, cold, or snowy days, and sometimes just when they didn't feel like going out. The track had a few improvements, though, like different types of terrain, and an optional dodging protocol which would try and pelt you with different sizes of soft, foam balls, which you had to avoid and run. And an optional protocol with randomizing suddenly appearing obstacles that would shoot up along the track, or stay there to practice parkour. 

 

The third floor was highly restricted, and could only be used when there was more than one avenger present. It was a simulation floor. Realistic holograms with minor solidification abilities and multiple battle scenarios could be practiced and trained with. 

 

Natasha wished she could use the third floor, but she knew that even with a partner, she would not trust herself not to lose concentration and get herself and her partner hurt. 

 

So she chose the first floor since she wanted to strain herself, but also make her mind go blank. 

 

“JARVIS, floor 70 please,” Natasha said as she stepped into the elevator. She had brought only one bottle of ice-cold water with her. She didn’t plan on using it much. She needed the burn. She needed to  _ feel _ . 

 

“Of course, Miss Romanov. May I ask if you are feeling alright?”

 

She smiled, despite herself. Stark sure knew how to make an AI. JARVIS  was just as much a part of the family as anyone else on the team. He cared about them all, just like Antoshka. 

“Not at the moment, J.” She said honestly, “But I’m working on it.”

 

“Very good, Miss.”

 

JARVIS stayed quiet the rest of the way, and when She stepped out, Natasha went immediately towards the punching bags, not planning on stopping punching until she stopped  _ thinking _ , stopped  _ remembering _ , stopped  _ hoping _ . Just- Stopped. 

 

She had lost track of time, and sweat was pouring down her face and her wrapped fists and feet were aching, but Natasha didn't stop until a large hand landed on her shoulder. 

  
  


She jerked and grabbed the hand, going to flip the person over, but a familiar voice made her relax, panting. 

 

“At ease, Lady Natasha, my apologies for startling you, it was not my attention.”

 

Looking up at Thor’s contrite face, Natasha nodded, relaxing her stance, and began to unwrap the bloody hand-wraps. 

 

“You are bleeding, Shield-Sister,” Thor gently caught her hand in his large grip, examining her bruised and bloody knuckles. “What has caused you such distress, as to injure yourself?”

 

Looking away, Natasha attempted t pull up an uncaring mask. 

 

“Nothing, I just got a bit carried away, lost in my thoughts. It happens.”

 

Thor looked into her eyes, seeming to see into her soul. A lot of people underestimated Thor, seeing the big blond man act confused and ignorant of Earth's customs and technologies- when in reality, he was very smart and perspective, especially with people. He was a lot older than he looked, and they sometimes forgot that the god had lived through wars, through the history of their tiny blue planet, had seen empires built and collapse, and had lived through it all. 

 

“I believe that you were trying to exactly the opposite, Natasha,” Thor said, using a hand to brush a strand of hair from her face, “I believe you were trying to run from unwanted thoughts. What haunts you so?”

 

She looked down and nodded. 

 

“You know about what’s happening upstairs, with Tony and Steve and Ya-Barnes?”

 

Thor nodded, his face grim. 

 

“Indeed. JARVIS was very informative. It is very upsetting to see what has become of our captain old lover, and brother in arms.”

 

“I used to know him. Barnes, that is.” 

 

“Ah, I see,” Thor nodded, eyes gentle, “and this upsets you?”

 

“I knew him as Yasha. Not as James, or Bucky, or Winter-” her voice trembled. “He trained me, he- he raised me. In the Red Room. Yasha was the closest thing to a father- 

 

“He  _ was _ my father, in everything but blood. He kissed my wounds better and helped me read, he encouraged me in my lessons and he taught me how to do my hair. Then they took him away, and I never saw him again until-” she choked, her eyes wet, lips trembling. 

 

“Until now.” Thor grimace.

 

“And he doesn’t remember me. To him, I am just- Just a stranger and I can’t-”

 

“Shush,” Thor comforted her, drawing her into his arms, into a warm hug. “You can not dwell on this, sister,” he said, “I am sure he will remember, you are not forgettable.”

 

“And if he never does?” She whispered, voice cracking. 

 

“Then you make new memories and I am certain they will be just as special.”

 

She just stood there, in her friends' arms, soaking up the comfort it gave her. 

 

But she wanted her father.

 

And Yasha did not remember her. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

_**1968, Russia: The Red Room** _

 

“Again,  _ Malen'kaya pautina _ , faster.”

 

Natalia panted, her small face covered in sweat, but complied. 

 

Kick with left foot, hit ribs, pivot, dodge, snap out left fist, hit stomach, duck-avoid fist, jump, avoid kickflip- avoid grab, kick in sensitive area, dodge left avoid kick, grab attacking arm, use opponent's weight against them, throw over shoulder, straddle opponents stomach, knife to throat-

 

“ _ Dostatochno _ , Natalia.” her opponent said, and she did, grinning at him. 

 

“ _ Khorosho _ , Yasha?” Natalia asked her trainer, excitedly, proud that she took him down for the first time.

 

“ _ Da, Malen'kaya pautina,  _ very good.” Yasha smiled proudly at her, and she beamed at her father-figure's praise.

 

“ _ Spasibo _ , Yasha!  _ Yeshche raz _ ?”  She wanted to prove she could take him down again.

 

“ _ Da _ , Natalia, again, faster.”

 

**_1969, Russia: The Red Room_ **

 

“Yasha!” Natasha ran to the man, giving him a running hug, 

 

“ _ Zdravstvuyte _ , Little Spiderling,” Yasha smiled gently down at the red-haired little girl. 

 

“Yasha, My hair keeps getting in my face when we spar!”  She pouted an hour later, taking a bright red lock and tugging at it. “I should cut it-”

 

“ _ Neit _ , Natalia.” Yasha shook his head, and she frowned, cocking her head.

 

“Why not? It is  _ nadoyedayet mne _ , Yasha!”

 

“Because your hair is beautiful, Natalia, and something that is your own. Do not let anyone take that from you. It makes you unique, from the other girls. You need to learn to braid it out of your face.”

 

“...Teach me, papa?”

 

“Of course,  _ doch' _ .”

 

**_1970, Russia: The Red Room_ **

 

“Yasha?”

 

“Yes,  _ malen'kiy _ ?” Yasha ran his fingers through her hair, braiding an intricate knot into a crown on her head. 

 

“Who is  _ Stivi _ ?” Natalia asked, curious, then hissed when Yasha’s hand spasmed, pulling on her roots. 

 

“ _ Oy _ , Yasha-” 

 

“Where- where did you hear that name, Natalia?” Yasha asked, his voice blank. Dead. 

 

Natalia shivered. 

 

“You cry out sometimes when you sleep- You call for him,” Natalia hesitated, biting her lip. “Who is he, papa?”

 

Yasha sighed, and Natalia saw a sadness in his eyes. 

 

“A man long dead,  _ doch _ ’. Do not mention him to anyone, not even the Matron, or they will take both of us away, understood?”

 

Natalia nodded, eyes wide. “ _ Da,  _ papa.”

 

**1939, Brooklyn, New York, America**

 

“You’re so good with your sisters, Buck,” Steve grinned, “It’s adorable!”

 

Bucky laughed and shoved Steve’s shoulder with his free hand as he ran a comb through Becca’s red hair- something she had inherited from their mother. “Shush, Stevie,”

 

“No, really- Big bad Bucky Barnes, expert stylist!”

 

“Shuddup, Punk,” Bucky grinned, “When I have daughters, Imma be prepared ta’ do their hair like a master, jus’ you wait!”

“And what if you have five sons?” Steve teased, and Becca’s giggles made his grin grow wider.

 

Bucky tapped Becca’s shoulder as her giggles made her squirm.

 

“Hey, stay still Becc’s, or I'll end up pullin’ your hair from th’ roots,”

 

“No Buck! No!” Becca giggled, going still. 

 

“Good girl,” He praised and started separating strands. 

 

“Th’ Barnes’ have always had daughters, Stevie, an’ mine will have red hair, jus’ like Becca.”

 

“Well your a Barnes’ Buck, and your a guy,” Steve pointed out, and Bucky smirked.

 

“Well, I’m special Stevie,” 

 

Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re a jerk, Buck,” Steve chuckled.

 

“And you’re a Punk,” Bucky shot back, eyes sparkling.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Now_ **

 

Yasha woke up with a jolt, in a bed with two men sleeping in chairs on either side. 

 

_ Natalia…. _

 

* * *

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

* * *

 

 

Yasha knew that the two men sitting beside his beside were friends of Bucky, so some extent, the blond was even familiar ( _ Stivi… _ ), but not. The only thing that he was concerned about now, was that Natalia was here; grown, adult, but from the looks, he had seen through Winter and James’ eyes, devastated that her  _ papa _ no longer remembered her. 

 

_ Oh, little Spiderling...ya idu za vami… _

 

Well aware that the blond was a super soldier like himself, with exceptional hearing and aware of his surroundings, even in sleep, Yasha carefully peeled the sheets from his body and crept silently out of bed, his trained feet from brutal, ruthless training of the Red Room making his movements silent as  _ mogila _ . 

 

Yasha didn’t mean too, but he spent a few moments just… watching the blond man breath, every up and down movement of his chest felt strangely like a miracle to him, and he found himself fascinated by the movements that should not be so awe-inspiring. In his mind, he heard the rasp and rattle of bad lungs, and the cough of a weak chest, and without meaning to, he took a step towards the blond, his foot heavier than it should have been. He froze, waiting for the blond man to wake, but the blond just snorted, snuffling ( _ fuckin’ adorable.  _ **_Shut up_ ** ) 

 

Sparing a glance at the brunette ( _ Mechanic.  _ **Tony** . Shush.) in the other chair, Yasha left the room silently, then hesitated; he had no clue how to get to Natalia. ( _ Ask Voice. _ **Jarvis** .) 

 

“...Jarvis?” Yasha murmured, and jumped when a quiet voice answered, reaching for a knife that was not there. 

 

“Yes, sir. May I ask who I am currently speaking to?”  

 

“Yasha,” he said, shortly. 

 

“Thank you, Yasha,” Jarvis replied. “May I assume you are looking for Miss Romanov?”

 

Yasha narrowed his eyes but nodded. “Romanova, but _ da _ , Jarvis. Where is she?”

 

“She is currently on floor 68, Mr. Yasha. Would you like to go to her?”

 

“ _ Da _ , Jarvis.” Yasha clenched his left hand, the circuitry whirring. 

 

“Then you may enter the elevator, Mr. Yasha.”

 

Nodding, Yasha hesitated before entering the metal box, pushing the anxiety of entering the (admittedly spacious) confining box. 

 

“ _ Spasibo _ , Jarvis.” 

 

“ _ Pozhaluysta _ , Mr. Yasha.” 

 

Startled, Yasha cracked a smile, amused. 

 

Before he could reply, the elevator door opened. 

 

* * *

 

Natasha had left the gym with a quiet smile and a ‘ _ Spasibo _ ’ to Thor and gone back to her floor. She wasn’t sure when she had sat down, nor when she had turned on the TV, but at one point, she had blinked into awareness in the middle of a ‘ _ Political Animals _ ’ re-run. 

 

Sighing, she placed her head in her hands and just breathed. 

 

She shouldn’t be this affected, by her old mentor, her papa. She shouldn’t have broken down in Thor’s arms like the little girl she once was long ago and had never been since. She had shown emotion that she had long since thought burnt out of her, back when her Papa was dragged, spitting and screaming, while she was held back by the Matron. She had thrown herself into training harder than before, and even though she was already at the top of her class, she had been leagues beyond her classmates, and had been chosen to be the only Black Widow to be injected with the Soviet Super Serum; a high honor, and an even higher curse. She hadn’t aged much, since graduation. She didn’t look her true age, and she wasn’t quite sure if that even was her age in the first place, her first memories of before her Papa, was being taken as a little girl out of cryo with the other girls. 

 

For all she knew, she could be older than her Papa. 

 

_ What a concept, _ Natasha snorted. 

 

Tony had always tried to drag her age out of her, the old adage of never ask a woman her age, having no effect on him. 

 

He had stopped, a sad look on his face, when she had replied with a grim smile; “ _ I have no idea, Antoshka _ .”

 

It was true, and she knew he could tell that it pained her to admit. 

 

She wondered if her Papa had known her age- maybe he did, maybe he was just as unaware of her age as herself. 

 

The ding of the elevator brought her out of her thoughts, and she sighed, not turning around. 

 

“Thor, I’m fine-”

 

“ _ Little Spider _ …”  

 

Natasha froze. 

 

Nobody- nobody had called her that, not since-

 

She whipped her head around, leaping up from the couch, to see a man with long dark hair, grey-blue eyes, and an awe-filled look on his face, a familiar, soft smile on his lips. 

 

Her chin trembled, and she choked out; “ _ Papa?” _

 

The man smiled and opened his arms. “ _ Da,  _ Little Spider.”

 

She gasped, then ran to him, and even though she was very much larger than the last time she had seen him, Natalia through herself into her Papa’s arms, her legs and arms wrapped around him like a koala. 

 

“Spasibo Papa, Spasibo, Spasibo-” She trembled in her Papa’s arms, and he shushed her, her weight had no effect on him after all this time, rocking her back in forth in his arms, humming a Russian lullaby in her ear. 

 

“Hush,  _ malen'kiy _ , I am here now..” Papa mumbled in her ear, before walking over to the couch and sitting with her still in his arms. 

 

“Not so little anymore, Papa,” She snickered, sniffing. She looked up into her Papa’s eyes, green meeting grey-blue.

 

“How are you here? I thought-?”

 

Papa smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a little more than the last time she had seen him. “ **I** did not forget you, Little Spider, but my other...selves have never known you.” 

 

She cocked her head, confused. Then her eyes widened. 

 

“You have multiple personalities…?

 

“ _ Da _ , Little Spider,” he nodded, and Natasha unconsciously grabbed a bit of his hair, not seeing his lips quirk as she began a tiny but intricate braid with the lock of brown hair. 

 

“Winter does not know you,” He explained, stroking her back. He tilted his head at her urging, letting her grab more hair to work with. “He was created by HYDRA after the Soviets sold me after my defiance, and I was shoved to the side. 

 

“James also knows nothing of you, and he was created when HYDRA… went too far in their punishments. He is a mix of Bucky, and myself, but with only flashes of memory of both of us. Bucky...was the original, but he has been hiding since the first trip to The Chair. He has not reemerged since.”

 

“So there are four sides to you?” she asked, an eyebrow quirked, “it must get crowded in there.”

 

He laughed and shook his head. “Not always. We can communicate, but It seems that they have only just started listening since  _ Antoshka _ rescued us.”

 

She hummed, nodding. 

 

“I missed you, Papa,” she whispered, laying her head on his large shoulder, closing her eyes. 

 

Kissing the red hair, he inhaled her scent; lavender, vanilla, and gun oil. 

 

“I have missed you too,  _ Doch _ ’...”

 

* * *

 

  
  


Waking up with a jolt, Tony hissed when he hit his elbow against the chair arm. Muttering curses as he rubbed his elbow, he looked toward the bed, then stilled. Then he cursed even harder. 

 

“Steve! Shit-” he jumped up and ran to k=his lover shaking his shoulder,

 

“Steve wake up, James is gone!”  the blond was up in a flash, and if he wasn’t panicking, he would have made a snarky comment about Pavlov’s Dog, but. Well. he was panicking. Badly.

 

“Fuck-” Tony blinked at the blonds curse, “ What the hell, how did he get out without one of us waking up?”

 

Shaking his head, Tony grit his teeth.

 

“JARVIS?” Tony asked his AI, trying to breathe. 

 

“Yes, Sir?” JARVIS replied- and oh, JARVIS was in trouble. He knew that tone of his boy. JARVIS was so in on this. 

 

“Did you let James leave?” Steve looked up at the ceiling, brows furrowed. 

 

“I wasn’t aware that James was a prisoner, Sir,” Oh, but JARVIS had the talent to sound both smug, and disapproving. The little imp. 

 

“I would have updated the protocols, but alas, I thought James was a guest. Apologies.” Sarcasm. Tony was going to give JARVIS to Jersey  _ Pre-school. _

 

“Where is he, JARVIS?” Steve snapped, frustrated, and from what Tony could see, scared out of his mind. 

 

“He is with Miss Romanova, Steve,” JARVIS….huffed? “They are both safe and sound, their vitals are in good health, and they are...bonding. I believe I met another of Mr. James’ personalities.”

 

Rubbing his face, Tony groaned. 

 

“Another? What this one call? Sneezy? Sleepy? Ditzy? Fluffy?”

 

“His name is Yasha, Sir. and it appears, to Miss Romanova, he is ‘Papa’.”

 

That brought both Steve and Tony up short, and they shared a wide-eyed look. 

 

“...He’s Natasha’s father?” Steve said after a few minutes of stunned silence. 

 

“I am unaware if it extends to DNA, but in all other aspects, I do believe so Steve,” JARVIS replied promptly. 

 

“Can we see them, Jarv? Just- I want to appease my fragile nerves, and Steve looks like he is gonna be the first Super-soldier with a heart-attack,”

 

“I’m the only-”

 

“Not anymore, Babe,”

 

Steve blinked, then pursed his lips, nodding. 

 

“Right, forgot.”

 

“Right,” Tony rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. “Jarv? Video?”

 

After a pause, JARVIS replied. “Of course, Sir.”

 

“...You asked them if you could, didn’t you, J?”

 

“Privacy protocols were installed by yourself, Sir, I am but what you programme me.”

 

“Jersey, J.” 

 

“I will pack my bags, Sir. Can I bring Dum-E with me?”

 

“...Just pull up the feed, J.”

 

Tony had no clue how JARVIS smugly brought up a video feed, but there you go.

 

The two ex-assassins were...cuddling. And Natasha was braiding Yasha’s hair. 

 

“Huh,” Steve muttered. 

 

“What?” Tony asked quietly, staring at the adorable sight. 

 

“Bucky..he used to braid his sister’s hair, said he was practicing for when he had a daughter. He always said his daughters would all have red hair- Just like Becca.”

 

There wasn’t much they could say to that, so they just looked at the feed for a bit longer, mesmerized. 

 

“He seems… Stable. More so than the others,” Steve observed. 

 

“Well, if he knows Natasha, maybe it was before he turned into a four-piece puzzle?”

 

“Well, he had to be two, at least, maybe each one is more unstable?” Steve offered.

Tony nodded, then sat down on the bed, exhaling heavily. 

 

“This is getting… so damn complicated Steve. I don’t know how we’re gonna deal with all this,”

 

“Tony, he’s my Best friend, he was my-my lover,” Steve stumbled over his words, “And I still love him, I can’t just leave him, or hand him over-”

 

“Whoah! Hey!” Tony threw up his hands, shaking his head frantically, “I said I don’t know  _ how _ , not that we  _ wouldn’t _ , of fucking  _ course _ I’m gonna help him, what kinda person-”

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, babydoll,” Steve sighed, grabbing Tony in a hug, stopping him mid-rant. The blond dropped his head onto Tony shoulder, and the older man automatically reached up and started running his fingers through the soft strands. 

 

“I’m sorry to Steve, I shouldn’t have snapped,” the Inventor muttered, trying not to tell Steve how uncomfortable it was to have 300 pounds of super-soldier muscle in his lap. “It’s just…”

 

“Overwhelming?”

 

“Yeah,” they both leaned back, lying in the bed, the video feed of Yasha and Natasha still running, no audio with it. JARVIS apparently thought the moment was private enough for only video. 

 

Tony found he didn’t mind. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you telling me you are just letting a war criminal walk free, Director?”

 

Fury kept his face blank in the face of the World Security Council when he really just wanted to sneer at them. 

 

“No, I’m telling you I am letting the world's longest surviving POW, recover in peace and quiet in the most secure building in the world with people who can contact and afford the world's best-qualified people to help James Buchanan Barnes,  _ War Hero, Medal of Honor recipient, and purple heart holder. _ ”

 

“This is a matter of National Sec-”

 

“Would you rather tell the world that you are going to prosecute a mentally ill veteran POW that they had grown up adoring, Captain America’s best friend because  _you_ let a Nazi mole grow in the organization supposed to protect them?”

 

“....You better not make us regret this, Director.”

 

“Oh, you won’t.”

 

Leaving the room, Nick nodded at Maria. 

 

He had a Tower to visit.

 

* * *

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

 

* * *

 

 

Nick Fury was a man with many responsibilities. To his country, to his organization, to his job. He had a responsibility to keep the world and its people safe, and by doing so, he had made some decisions in his career that would make most people lose the ability to sleep at night. But Nick Fury was not most people. He was a spy, and as Stark had once said, 'his secrets had secrets’. Once, that would not have bothered him; that people automatically regarded him with distrust. 

 

Now, he felt that it would be a hinder when he delivered the WSC’s wishes (that they would never get granted if he had anything to say about it) and there thoughts on one James Buchanan Barnes. Or whatever he was calling himself now.

 

Entering the tower, he strode right past the front desk, ignoring the secretary's protests, and into the elevator.

 

“JARVIS, I need to talk to Stark and Rogers. I've got some...news.” 

 

“Very well, Director Fury,” Stark's AI said stiffly, and damn, but even the man's Robot Butler didn't trust him. And that shouldn't bother him, but it did.

 

“Sir and Captain Rogers are on their floor. Please wait a moment.”

 

Waiting with a stiff back, Fury waited for JARVIS to transport the box up to the right floor. 

 

The elevator went much slower than Fury knew damn well that it could, and he grudgingly accepted JARVIS’ passive-aggressive pay-back. JARVIS was very much protective of his creator, as Nick and much of SHIELD had found out on multiple occasions; The hard way.

 

“Sir and Captain Rogers are waiting for you in the kitchen, Director. And Sir has asked me to tell you that James is on a separate floor, and with Miss Romanova.”

 

A subtle threat:  _ James is being protected by Natasha, don’t even think about doing anything hinky. _

 

“Understood, JARVIS.”

 

“Very good, Director.”

 

Five minutes later (and going up that many floors on the slowest setting were mind-numbing, really) the doors open, and Fury could have sword they opened with  _ attitude _ . And closed behind him  _ threateningly _ .

 

Damn, but if that AI wasn’t terrifying. 

 

Nick strode into the large kitchen, and, not stopping to even greet the two men sitting having coffee, he went straight to the cupboard above the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of whiskey that probably cost more than his car. The normal one, anyways. The black VW Beetle. Shut up. It was a gift from his mama. 

 

Taking out a glass, he poured it halfway full, then slammed it back. Then he did the same thing again, and then filled it halfway and sipped. 

 

Finally, he looked up at the two others, who looked at him with raised brows. 

 

“Bad day, Eyepatch?” Stark snorted, a twitch in his hands that Fury absently noticed; he probably didn’t like whiskey costing thousands of dollars being treated like water.

 

Too damn bad. 

 

“You ok, director?” Steve of course, ever the polite little soldier. 

 

Damn him. 

 

“Ya know, when I took this job, I expected a little- no, a lot, of stress. I knew I would have the safety of the world on my shoulders, but I knew I could do it.” Taking another sip, Nick swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing. “I knew that it would be a lot of work, That I would have to make damn hard decisions, but I would do it. Because the world needed that shade of grey thinking.” 

 

He refused to be guilty at Steve’s Disappointed in You face. 

 

Refused. 

 

Dammit. 

 

“When I took this job, Agent Carter told me that I would be the perfect man for the job if only I just trusted people  _ a little _ ,”

 

Nick laughed, shortly. “First time I took that advice, I lost an eye. The second…” Nick downed the rest of the drink, “Alexander Pierce ran HYDRA under my damn nose the whole time, and if I didn’t Veto the Insight programme from the start, know you were gonna refuse to give us your repulsor tech, Stark, the world I was trying to protect woulda been a damn sight more empty.” 

 

“Wait,” Stark furrowed his brows, “Insight- that’s, hold on a sec,” Stark tapped a few places on the counter, and one of his holograms popped up. “Give me a sec- J? Pull up the HYDRA files, cross-reference them with ‘ _ Insight, Project The _ ’ and pull them up, side by side.”

 

“Right away Sir,” JARVIS replied, warmth in his voice, and Nick tried not to feel slighted. 

 

Steve looked over Tony’s shoulder and read with him while Nick just nursed a glass of water, deciding he needed to be at least somewhat sober for the rest of this visit, no matter how much he just wanted to drown in a bottle. 

 

“Shit, what the fuck-” Tony cursed as he read the files, his face as white as old bone, and Steve looked much the same. 

 

“This is just- what the hell this is  _ inhuman _ , we aren’t- this much power is-”

 

“Who gives us the right to just- no trail? Just  **bam** you’re dead?”

 

“Fuck, that’s not freedom, that’s fear, what the  _ hell _ !”

 

It said something about how much the files affected them all that nobody balked or commented on Steve’s cursing, especially Stark. 

 

“This is the first thing I wanted to show you both, The good news if you look at it that way-”

 

“The  _ good news _ -?” Stark spluttered, and Nick grimace. 

 

“It’s the good news because it is no longer a possibility.”

 

“Then what’s the bad news?” 

 

Rogers had a frown on his lips and looked ready to go to war.

 

“The bad news...Is that the WSC knew about HYDRA. They knew about Barnes, too. And they just let it happen.”

 

Stark looked like his world had tilted on its axis, and Rogers looked like he was shot in the gut. 

 

“But...why?” Steve choked out, his eyes anguished. “Why would they just- why would they let HYDRA fester in something that was supposed to protect the world?”

 

Nick sighed and wished he could avoid the inevitable blow-out when Rogers heard the WSC’s excuse for not saying anything.

 

“Because HYDRA apparently pays enough money that they could keep even the WSC’s mouths shut. They weren’t happy that I shut-down their little cash-cow. As of three hours ago, all undercover HYDRA agents within SHIELD, the Government, and other places are being rooted out, arrested, and all their bases raided. Missions that we had conducted are being looked over, and anything we find that was HYDRA in those missions is being filed away, and if it is discovered that any casualties were innocents, the families are being compensated, and apologized to, and informed the serious need to keep it quiet.”

 

“Nick-” Tony warned, and Fury held up a hand. 

 

“Nobody is being threatened, Stark, just told in a way that makes them absolutely certain that they should not tell anyone because people can and will get hurt if it comes out that HYDRA had been working in there government, and that the Undersecretary of the US was the head of it.”

 

“It would cause mass hysteria.” Rogers nodded, and Nick found himself surprised at the Captains insight. 

 

“What?” Rogers scoffed, “I went through ww2, Nick, I fought in it. I know mass hysteria. It ain't pretty.”

 

“In other news, They wanted Barnes locked up, possibly executed-”

 

“ _ The Hell they will _ -” Stark snarled, and Nick once again raised his hands. 

 

“I cut them off that idea, Stark. I told them that if they wanted to tell the public they were gonna punish the world's longest living POW and Captain America’s best friend, a Highly Decorated and mentally ill ww2 veteran that was brainwashed and tortured for seventy years, they better be prepared.”

 

Nick smirked. 

 

“They backed off damn fast.”

 

“I don’t trust that.”

 

“Neither do I,” Steve nodded. 

 

“I was thinking you could get Miss Potts to make a statement about Barnes,” Nick offered, “Tell them, in a way that shows that Barnes had no choice in his actions, of what has happened to him, and how it affected him, and that you’re taking care of him, and that he is in no way responsible for his actions. Gain some sympathy.”

 

“Not everybody will be sympathetic,” Stark grimaced, and Steve reluctantly nodded. 

 

“And not everybody liked a black president, Stark, but those people were ignored.”

 

“Good point,” Stark agreed, huffing. 

 

“I need a drink.” Steve huffed, and Stark and Fury raised an eyebrow at him. 

 

“You can’t get drunk, babe,” Stark pointed out, and Rogers snorted. 

 

“Well, I can make a damn good effort.”

 

* * *

 

  
  


“ _ Malen'kiy pauk _ , they aren’t watching anymore.”

 

Natalia nodded, and shifted, climbing off her Papa’s lap. Standing, she motioned towards the kitchen and Yasha got up, following her. 

 

“ _ Nataliya _ , how...did you escape?” Yasha asked his  _ Doch,  _ staring at her with soft eyes as she made them both a hot coffee. 

 

“I left, after you… after they took you. I could not stay with people that had taken away the only good thing I had left.”

 

Yasha looked at Nataliya with sadness. His Little Spiderling, all grown up, shadows that were once so small, not deep and dark behind eyes that told untold stories of hardship and pain. Yasha wanted to take all that pain away from her, would gladly shoulder it all, if he could, to give his daughter reprieve. 

 

“How? I have not heard of any escaping the Red Room alive,”

The last, Yasha remembered with a wince, he had been personally sent to kill. Emira had died with tears staining her pretty, porcelain cheeks, begging on her knees. 

 

“I was sent on a mission, after graduation. I did not return.”

 

Yasha raised an eyebrow, tapping his metal fingers on the mug, the sound echoing in the sparse kitchen. “And they did not send anyone after you?”

 

“I made them think I failed the mission and faked my death. Afterward,” Nataliya looked away, sighing, “Afterwards I took up some contracts, to feed and clothe myself. I did a lot I am not proud of. But during one of my jobs, I was approached by an Archer-”

 

“An archer?” Yasha asked, amusement tinting his tone, and Nataliya smirked. 

 

“Don’t underestimate Clint, Papa, his aim is just as good as yours, with or without his  arrows,”

 

“I doubt that,” Yasha snorted, “But continue Little One.”

 

“I was approached by Clint and told under no illusions that either I joined SHIELD, or he would take me out, and he hoped I did the first,” Natasha smiled, softness in her eyes at the memory. “I did the first. And I’ve been working for the good guys since.” she scowled, then. “Or so I thought.”

 

Yasha reached up and ran his metal fingers down her cheek. 

 

“Oh, Nataliya, I am sorry,”

 

“Not your fault, Papa.”

 

“No completely, no,” He murmured, “But I worked for them.”

 

“Not you, papa, and Winter did not do it willingly.”

 

“I suppose,” Yasha conceded. “But I am sorry nonetheless.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Nataliya sighed. “So am I.”

 

They sat in silence after that, coffee long gone cold.

 

* * *

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last Chapter! I might add a series of one-shots when I get inspired!

 

* * *

 

 

Pepper was _So Not Impressed™_ ; by the look in her eyes, Tony knew he would be buying his CEO a new pair of Lui Boutons and a couple new necklaces, and, probably a few pairs of earrings to match.

 

“Tony…” Pepper sighed, and Tony cringed, hearing the multitude of meanings in his name. Mostly _how is this my life?_ and _why is this my life?_

 

“Pepper, honey, light of my life-” Tony pleaded.

 

“This is-” She looked at James, who was sitting in-between them, two months of isolation from everyone but Steve, Tony, Natasha, and his two doctors, a Therapist and his Psychologist, having made him a lot calmer and less prone to hiding and stuttering, even though he did still switch between personalities at random moments. Even Winter had become calmer; granted, Winter still didn’t do much, other than warily watching them, patrol around their floor, and only eat, sleep, or drink when he was told.

 

They were working on it.

 

Slowly.

 

“Tony, this is going to be a shit-show, after the interview comes out,” Pepper said bluntly, and James barely flinched. Tony was proud of him.

 

“Yeah well, if anyone was going to give the public a no-holds-bard, honest, blunt, word-for-word interview, It would be Christine Everhart,” Steve pointed out. “It’s why people listen to her, and she will dig for the truth. And She likes Tony, and for some reason she adores James,”

 

Tony laughed, and James blushed, mumbling under his breath.

 

“What was that, James?” Pepper asked him and James flushed even harder.

“She thinks I’m adorable,” James muttered, pouting.

 

“Face it, James,” Steve teased him, “You are completely adorable,”

 

“‘M not adorable,” James whined, and Tony snickered.

 

“Hiding your face in my stomach during the interview didn’t help, Sweetheart,” Tony pointed out smugly. “She just about cooed so hard you could see hearts in her eyes. Face it, the world's gonna find you adorable by tonight.”

 

James huffed.

 

“Tony, not everyone is going to accept this, you should have waited, I could have helped-”

 

“Pepper,” Steve stopped her firmly, “This will work, or it won’t, the damage is done, ok? Right now, we just want to concentrate on James, and his recovery from now on, ok?”

 

Pepper rubbed the bridge of her nose, silent for a while, but nodded eventually.

 

“Ok, Steve. But, just- people are going to say a lot of things until James is better- better than he is now,” she firmly added, “I would keep all the talk of it away from him, or at least the bad things, if you can root out the good. Seeing the good reactions might help.”

 

“James ‘s right here, ya’ know…” Bucky muttered hunching in on himself, and Steve smiled gently; Bucky only popped out occasionally, still twitchy, and involuntarily popped out (and continued to, but rarely) since a month ago. It was always a treat to see the quiet man.

 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve gave him a careful hug into his side, and a kiss to the side of his head, and Tony did the same.

“Hey, Buckaroo,” Tony said to his (fourth? Did Winter count when all they did was cuddle to help him fall asleep? James certainly didn’t, he was just a kid-)  lover, broadcasting his movements, and running a hand through his hair, and Bucky leaned into it.

 

“Hi, Dolls,” Bucky murmured, cuddling into Tony’s side and putting his feet on Steve’s lap.  

 

“An’ I wanna jus’ focus on recoverin’ too,” He whispered, and Pepper’s eyes softened.

 

“Of course, Bucky, you all deserve it. I just don’t want any of the four of you to get hurt.”

 

Bucky snorted.

 

“Winter says tha’ he don’ care what they hav’ta say,”

 

Tony chuckled.

 

“Yeah, Snowflakes quiet the Charmer, I’m glad Christine didn’t get a face full of him,”

 

Steve wrinkled his nose, nodding. “Yeah, that would have been bad.”

 

“I’m going to go work of making sure SI can deal with whatever fallout happens,” Pepper sighed, getting up, “You guys better not make any more interviews without me, ok?”

 

They nodded and Pepper left. Snoring made them look down, to see Bucky had fallen asleep, the four personalities having been stressed out and not sleeping for the past few days because of that morning's interview.

 

They looked fondly at the Brunette in their laps, and then shared one with each other.

 

Leaning towards Steve, Tony gave the blond a kiss on the lips.

 

“I love you,” the Inventor murmured, “Both of you.”

 

“I love you both, too,” Steve smiled, eyes sparkling.

 

“And the four o’ us love ya’ bot too, now let me sleep, Punks’” Bucky muttered, burrowing into Tony’s stomach.

 

They laughed softly, and Tony looked at his lovers, a wide smile on his face;

 

He loved both of them, so much, and it was hard to believe it had only been only three months since the whole undercover HYDRA gig.

 

They were gonna be fine.

 

They had each other, and they would be fine, eventually.

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last Chapter! I might add a series of one-shots when I get inspired!

**Author's Note:**

> Are you 18+ and Want to join in a group dedicated to Bucky Appreciation? Join my Server on Discord, here: 
> 
> https://discord.gg/h2zTtzT
> 
> Hope to see you soon!


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